The Foundling Prince
by AustralianRanger012
Summary: AU, follows movie canon events. Many years before the One Ring made its presence known in Middle Earth, a golden-blond haired, bright-blue eyed elfling was found abandoned in the Forests of Mirkwood by an Elvenking grieving the recent deaths of his wife and son. This is the story of that elfling, Legolas Thranduilion, adopted son of King Thranduil, told through one and two-shots.
1. Heartbreak-part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **The image for this story was originally uploaded on zerochan by Lucrete, and downloaded by me off Pinterest.**

 **So, I did what I told myself I would never do and wrote a Lord of the Ring's fanfiction. I don't know how good my efforts are, but though I'd post the first couple of chapters to gage a response. I have no less than thirteen written in various states of completion, but we'll see how things go.**

 **This is mainly based on the movie-verse, though the timeline differs. However, it is an AU, and has more non-canon elements than Legolas being the adopted son of Thranduil.**

 **The premise of an adopted Legolas comes from the story 'Small Blessings' written by nazgularepeopletoo over on AO3, and the original idea is credited to tumblr. However, that is the only thing that I have borrowed from that story. My story is not meant to reflect theirs in anyway, and is quite different.**

 **This is completely un-betaed so any mistakes I take full responsibility for. This is purely self-indulgent fluffy-angst, and proves once and for all that I can't write pure fluff to save my life.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Heartbreak-part 1**

Thranduil's heart was breaking, and nothing could console him. In that moment, he did not truly care if he lived or died. After all, those he cared about more than anything else in the world were dead.

His beloved wife and their unborn son were dead.

Slaughtered by orcs.

In front of him on what was supposed to be a pleasant ride in the forest.

He had not been able to save them.

He had failed as a husband and a father, the latter before he'd even officially become one.

Thranduil felt numb.

His wife was dead.

Their son was dead.

Gone. Forever.

A single tear ran down the normally stern and stubborn Elvenking's cheek, but the heartbroken elf made no move to wipe it away. He did not have the strength to even raise a hand right now. Indeed, it seemed that the normally proud and confident king had already started fading, sitting in a dark room by himself and refusing all company.

"My Lord?"

Thranduil winced as someone knocked gently on the closed doors of his study, jolting him out of his downward spire for a brief moment. He did not want to face anyone right now, not when he'd just lost the love of his life less than three hours ago. When the healers had pronounced Tathardis and her unborn son as having passed beyond their help, Thranduil had screamed in grief and fled from the room. He could not fully accept that they were gone, and still felt like he was in a bad dream, floating along on a cloud of pain and anguish. All he wanted was to be left alone to fade away in peace.

But Lagoron, his faithful friend and seneschal who'd known him since they were both small elflings, was nothing if not stubborn.

Another knock sounded, more determined than the last.

"My King? Thranduil? I know you are in there. Don't you dare ignore me, _mellon-nin_." (my friend)

Lagoron's voice faded into the distance as Thranduil lost focus on the world again. He was distantly aware of soft voices but couldn't focus on what they were saying, and jumped and shied away when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, wincing in the harsh light from the lamp that had been lit, the Woodland King's pained silver-blue eyes met a very concerned pair of sky blue ones.

"Thranduil, please don't do this. You are needed too much by too many people; we cannot lose you to grief right now."

Lagoron was the only elf, apart from his late wife, who would dare to approach the Elvenking when he was in such a state and tell him what he was doing was wrong. Thranduil had long since stopped arguing with his seneschal regarding his own well-being, as he always seemed to invariably lose to the determined Sindar.

This time it was different.

"I've just lost my wife and son and you are telling me I'm not allowed to grieve for them?"

It was a testament to how far Thranduil had fallen in a few short hours in that his words came out as a faint whisper that someone without an elf's enhanced hearing might not have been able to hear.

Lagoron did not miss a beat.

"You need to grieve, I'm not telling you not to, but this is not the right way to go about it. If you continue down this path, you will fade completely within the next few days, and then what will we do? The people have just lost their queen and unborn prince, to lose their king as well would shatter them. They need you as their king and leader Thranduil. Especially right now."

The king's shoulders were slumped and his eyes had hardly any light in them when he answered.

"I don't think that I have the strength or skill to lead them anymore Lagoron. I failed to protect my queen and son. How am I supposed to protect a whole realm of people if I cannot look after the two most important people in my life?"

"Tathardis and your son's deaths were not your fault. You fought with everything you had, we all did, but we were outnumbered. The orcs planned this ambush down to the littlest detail, there was nothing any of us could have done to stop it. It is not your fault Thranduil, Tathardis's death is not your fault. It is none of our faults; she was taken by the growing darkness that is starting to spread across the land. Do not blame yourself for today's deaths and use that as an excuse to fade, Thranduil."

"I am already fading Lagoron. I can feel it. My spirit is all but spent."

Lagoron looked very alarmed.

"You _can't_ do this Thranduil! You can't fade now!"

But the king was, that much was very obvious to Lagoron. He was still holding onto life, but only by a thin thread that could break at any moment. For the first time in many centuries, Lagoron did not know what to do, and panicked as he shook his friends arm, which was not as solid as it should be.

"Thranduil, come back! You are needed! Your people, your _wife's_ people, they _need_ you Thranduil. Tell me, what would Tathardis have wanted you to do? To stay strong and lead her people, or to fade from grief within a couple of hours of her passing? Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief. Please Thranduil, come back to us."

The Elvenking had stopped listening to his friend's words some time back, when one sentence suddenly hit him.

" _Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief."_

He would never dishonour the memory of the love of his life. Who did Lagoron think he was, to speak like that to his king? Thranduil felt a small flash of anger at the suggestion that he would dishonour his beloved queen. He would never…

Thranduil suddenly gasped and doubled over in physical pain as the realisation that was exactly what he was currently doing washed over him. By allowing himself to fade from grief, he would leave his people, his beloved wife's people, without a king or queen. Memories of the vow he'd made the night he married Tathardis flashed through the king's head. He'd promised to love and lead her people as if they were his own. Many of the older Sindar elves at the time had looked down on and belittled the fact that their crown prince had married a weak Silvan elf and made her his queen, but Thranduil had seen a strength of character and determination in her and her race that put many of his own people to shame.

That put him to shame. Yes, he had just lost his wife, but the people had lost their beloved queen, and her parents had just lost their beloved daughter. Her older brother had just lost his little sister. It was with that thought that Thranduil was able to pull himself out of his grief enough to realise a startling thing.

He was not alone in his grief, and would not be alone in his grief. The whole kingdom would grieve, and fall apart if someone did not step in and take charge. Someone had to keep the peace, and as king that was his job. It was what Tathardis would have wanted, she would not have wanted him to fade from grief.

Thranduil stood up suddenly with a gasp and almost fell flat on his face, he felt strong hands grab him and gently lower him to the ground as he lent forward and started sobbing into soft fabric. He couldn't help it. All the emotions he'd been suppressing suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind and he felt like he was drowning. He knew what he must do, but Thranduil was terrified that he wouldn't be able to do it. No matter how much he fought it, he was afraid he would still eventually fade from grief, it would just be a slower process.

Thranduil took a deep shuddering breath and opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He could not remember. The strong hands were still resting on his shoulders, and looking up Thranduil saw Lagoron's concerned expression. The seneschal was kneeling on the floor of the study; he had apparently been holding Thranduil all through the latter's little breakdown. Seeing that he now had the king's attention, Thranduil's close friend spoke.

"I think you need some air _mellon-nin_. Come, let us go for a walk, out in the forest. We won't go far, just far enough to give us some space. Come."

Thranduil allowed his lifelong friend to help him to his feet and lead him to the door. Lagoron's words had been enough to keep him from fading this time, but Thranduil couldn't shake the fear that it was not permanent.

He feared fading more than he feared death itself. And, in spite of Lagoron's words, Thranduil knew that keeping his vow to his wife would not be enough to prevent his eventual demise.

He would fade, the only question was how long it would take.

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 _Lagoron – swift/rapid: A Sindar warrior who Thranduil has known his whole life. They are like brothers._

 _Tathardis – Willow: Was the queen of the woodland realm, a full-blooded Silvan elf and wife to Thranduil._

 _ **All names and their translations came from elfnamegeneratorfun. **_

**So, there it is. Thoughts on chapter 1? Heartbreak-part 2 will be up soon!**


	2. Heartbreak-part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thankyou for the reviews, leggyrespect123 and Guest! And also to those who followed this story.**

 **Still not beta-ed, so any mistakes are mine.**

 **Enjoy this angst-feast!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Heartbreak-part 2**

Thranduil and Lagoron walked silently beneath the leafy green trees of the woodland realm, their feet leaving no mark on the ground as they passed by. Squirrels chattered quietly with each other and bounded around in the branches above their heads, while birds sung their sweet songs and water rippled in the many little streams and brooks that lay scattered throughout the forest. This area had yet to be touched by the darkness that was rapidly spreading over the whole land, and was a bittersweet reminder of what Greenwood the Great had once been like. Now, many were starting to refer to the southernmost part as Mirkwood, due to the gloomy atmosphere and the dangerous creatures that had moved into the area of the forest surrounding the dark fortress of Dol Goldur.

They had been nowhere near the dark part of the woods when the orcs had attacked their party and killed the queen. They had been a long distance away from it still, and Lagoron worried at the fact that orcs had been in that particular part of the woods. If they could get this far into the elven kingdom without being sensed, that did not bode well for the woodland elves. They were still recovering from the disastrous battle at Dagorlad, and as a result their warriors were much younger and less experienced than those in the other elven realms. They also did not possess a Ring of Power, something that Lagoron did silently question the wisdom of. Thranduil may be stubborn, but he was nothing when compared with his sire. Oropher had publically stated that the day he couldn't defend his realm by his own power and that of his people was the day he would die.

Personally, Lagoron would be happier right now if the previous King of the Woodland Realm had taken a ring when the other elven leaders had. Especially with Thranduil currently grieving the way he was. They were already vulnerable, and could not afford to have a king slowly fading from grief at a time when they needed to build themselves up and stay strong for whatever was coming.

Lagoron was so deep in these thoughts that he hadn't realised his king had stopped walking until he bumped into the strong back. The Elvenking was standing stock still, his head held high and tipped slightly to one side as he listened intently to something. Then, without warning, he took off running in an apparently random direction. Lagoron's calls and questions were ignored as the king plunged into the undergrowth and disappeared from sight. Cursing both his own inattentiveness and the unpredictability that seemed to run in Oropher's bloodline, the seneschal wearily followed his friend and king.

* * *

Thranduil did not bother to reply to his friend's questions as he left the seneschal behind. He'd catch up eventually. It was no secret that Thranduil was almost as good at running through the forest as the Silvan elves, but most of the Sindar elves could not claim the same, though many of the younger generation was getting very good at it.

Barely breathing hard, Thranduil paused in a clearing and tilted his head to the side as he listened intently. He ignored the crashing and occasional curse coming from somewhere behind him as Lagoron fought his way through the heavy undergrowth. A thin cry eventually reached the kings sensitive ears, louder than it had been last time. Encouraged that he was heading in the right direction, the elf took off running again. He did not know who was making the sound, but he instinctively knew whoever was needed help.

Bursting into another clearing, one that he'd never been in before, Thranduil paused again and listened. At first he heard nothing, then quiet whimpering's reached his ears, coming from the other side of the clearing. Approaching the area the sound had come from cautiously, Thranduil laid a hand on his sword just in case, even though the evil steadily encroaching on their land had not yet shown itself to be in this part of the forest. After what had happened just that morning, Thranduil was taking no chances. His keen elven eyes scanned the area, trying to pinpoint exactly were the noise he had heard had come from.

Another cry, followed by a soft hiccup, had him dropping his hand from his sword hilt and rushing forward. Reaching a large tree, the Elvenking dropped to his knees and tentatively touched the small bundle of blankets resting in the tangled roots at its base. When the dark blanket wriggled and sobbed Thranduil picked it up and carefully unwrapped it, revealing the top of a golden head and the tips of delicately pointed ears. An elfling, not quite a newborn but no more than a day or two old, stopped sobbing and stared up at the king with deep blue eyes. The eyes of a Sindar elf, Thranduil thought with a start, for a moment being eerily reminded of his own father's eyes which had been the exact same colour, even as he became lost in the confusion, misery and sheer depth of _emotion_ the little elfling was portraying. They stared at each other for what seemed like an age before the baby opened his mouth (Thranduil knew instinctively that the baby was a boy) and started whimpering softly again.

Like that, the spell was broken and Thranduil realised that, in spite of it being a relatively warm day in early summer, the tiny elfling was shivering violently and did not have a very bright glow like a newborn elf should. Suddenly fearing for the strange child's life, Thranduil carefully wrapped the elfling back up in the thin blanket before lifting the elfling to his chest and wrapping his own robes around him to try and provide more warmth. Standing up and starting back across the clearing, Thranduil started unconsciously rocking the baby gently, and the sobbing stopped. Hugging the precious bundle tighter to his chest, Thranduil stepped through a gap in the trees to come face-to-face with a slightly out of breath Lagoron, whose hair and robes were covered in twigs and leaves.

"Your majesty, you can't just run off like that with no warning! Anything could have happened to you!"

His cheerful voice disturbed the child in Thranduil's arms, and the boy started whimpering again. Thranduil quickly hushed him. Lagoron's eyes widened as he took in the bundle the king was hugging close to his chest. It only took a few moments for his eyes to travel up and meet Thranduil's.

"Is that a…?"

The king nodded firmly.

"Yes. And he is freezing. We must get him back to the healers at once."

Lagoron set his jaw.

"Then what are we waiting for? Come on!"

They arrived back at the palace in record time. As soon as they were inside the halls, Thranduil ordered Lagoron to fetch a healer and bring them to his rooms. Striding determinedly through the halls that he'd been stumbling along in a haze of grief a few hours before, Thranduil only had one thing on his mind. Saving the child's life.

He may have failed to save Tathardis and their son, but he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that this little elfling did not meet the same fate.

Arriving at the royal chambers, Thranduil entered his room and gently laid the now sleeping elfling in a hand-carved wooden cot that was already set up there, in anticipation of the prince that would now never arrive. Hoping that the healers wouldn't take too long to arrive, Thranduil sat next to the cot and gently brushed a stray strand of golden-blond hair out of the elflings face. For a baby so young he had a lot of hair. As his hand touched the boy's cheek, his eyes opened and he gave Thranduil a look that the elder elf could not quite decipher, before giggling softly and reaching up to grasp at the Sindar's long white-blond hair. He was shivering less violently now, which the king took to be a good sign, but really, what did he know about babies?

Thranduil was so caught up in saving this little elfling's life that he didn't realise until later that he'd laid a stranger's baby in a bed lovingly designed and carved for his son, a crown prince, without a second thought. It had just felt right at the time.

* * *

"He will live. I don't know how long he was out there, but it wasn't long enough to cause any serious problems. Some time in the warmth, that bottle of warm milk and another one in a few hours' time, plenty of love and care, and he will be fine."

Tuchon, head healer of the woodland realm, smiled at the haggard-looking king as he pronounced the verdict, even as the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed his own weariness and sorrow. After all, mere hours ago he had been unable to save the Elvenking's wife and unborn son from dying, and he had feared the loss would cause the king to fade from grief. Seeing him gazing at this elfling he'd found abandoned in the forest with nothing but adoration and love in his eyes lifted Tuchon's spirit like not much could. Everyone was grieving for the loss of their queen and crown prince; and, rather unfairly in Tunith's opinion and Tuchon agreed with his twin sister on this one, they were looking to the king to lead them, forgetting that the king had lost just as much if not more than they had this day.

Lagoron watched silently from a corner. He did not know where this golden-blond haired bright-blue eyed elfling had come from, and felt a flash of anger towards those who had abandoned him. Yet, at the same time, he whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar and whoever else had seen fit to put this child in Thranduil's path, today of all days. Thranduil now had something to live for, and it was clear that Thranduil was not about to let any harm come to this elfling.

"What are you planning on calling him my Lord? If he is going to stay here than he needs a name."

Tuchon glanced briefly over at Lagoron as the latter said those words before he turned back to the king, wondering if his majesty would voice what they were both doubtlessly thinking and make it official. Thranduil managed to tear his eyes away from the elfling's face for long enough to observe the two people currently in the room with him. Then he smiled, and even Lagoron, who had known the king for several thousand years by now, had never seen him look so happy before.

"Legolas. His name is Legolas Thranduilion. He is my little Greenleaf, Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm."

* * *

 _Tuchon – Strength (m). Head healer of Mirkwood. Twin brother to Tunith._

 _Tunith – Strength (f). Female healer and midwife. Twin sister to Tuchon, and is his second-in-command._

 ** _All names and their translations came from elfnamegeneratorfun. _**

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**End of part 2. So, what do you think? Is it worth posting the other related shorts of Thranduil and Legolas's father/son relationship as time goes on? As I said before, there are another eleven chapters currently in various states of completion. If you want to read them please let me know, as I will not post them unless I know people are going to read them.**


	3. Autumn Leaves

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thankyou every for all your lovely reviews telling me you want to read more! For a self-indulgent story largely written over four days of procrastination-from-essay-writing I am blown away by all the support. So shout-outs to** **Hawaiichick, Guest, wswpub, aficionada-de-libros, Issy, Ne'ith5, leggyrespect123 and Linoria! This chapter is dedicated to all you guys, and I hope that you enjoy!**

 **Still not beta-ed, so any mistakes of any sort are mine.**

 **For anyone who's interested, I've included a note on Legolas's real parentage and my thoughts regarding it at the end of this chapter.**

 **Enjoy the closest thing to pure sweet fluff that this story has to offer! It only gets more angsty from here on. I am so incapable of writing straight up fluff.**

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 **Chapter 3: Autumn Leaves**

 _Legolas is the equivalent of a human four-year-old physically._

" _Ada_! _Ada_! Look what I found!" (dad/father)

Legolas Thranduilion, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood, burst into his father's study and flung himself at the king, who was standing next to his desk. Thranduil only just managed to catch the rapidly moving elfling in time to prevent him having an untimely collision with the leg of the table. Legolas was normally very graceful in all his movements, but sometimes got carried away by his enthusiasm for life in general.

Thranduil smiled at the bright eyed elfling as he knelt down to his level to address his son face-to-face. He always tried to address Legolas as an equal, as much as a king and a prince could be equals anyway. It did not matter that the elfling was not his son by blood, a fact that Thranduil rarely thought about anymore. Due to Lagoron's insistence, not long after he'd found Legolas in the woods, Thranduil had allowed the seneschal to make discrete enquiries around to try and find out who the elfling's parents might be. Not that he intended to give Legolas up, but Lagoron had raised some very good points in his argument that they had to at least make an _attempt_ to find out where the elfling had come from. But, for all the seneschal's enquiring around, he had not found any information that would help them. There were no elves or elflings missing that had been reported, and when Thranduil had presented the Crown Prince to his people, no one had questioned whether or not he was really the king's son. Eventually, Lagoron had given up looking and accepted that the king had every right to adopt this child and name him as Crown Prince if he wished to. He certainly did not seem to have any relatives who would object.

The lack of results from Lagoron's search pleased Thranduil more than he would ever admit to anyone. Legolas was his son in all the ways that it mattered, and to the young elfling Thranduil was the only parent he had ever had. Thranduil knew that one day, when Legolas came of age, he would have to tell his son the truth; but that day was still many years away.

"What is it that is so important that you almost collided with the table leg, _ion nîn_?" (my son)

Legolas held out his clenched right fist and carefully opened it to reveal a leaf.

"I wanted to show you this. Isn't it pretty? It's so colourful!"

Thranduil examined the slightly squashed leaf gravely, noting the green, brown, gold and purple flecks that had apparently impressed Legolas so much. It was early autumn in the Woodland Realm, and Legolas was always wanting to go outside and play in the golden colours of the changing season. In fact, Legolas just wanted any excuse to go outside full-stop. He loved the forest and had a deep connection to it like the Silvan elves did, in spite of his obvious Sindar heritage. It was partially for this reason that Thranduil suspected the boy was Silvan/Sindar. His slim athletic build and almost supernatural balance certainly pointed to that being the case, as well as the fact that he could talk to the trees and understand their language.

Not that it caused Thranduil to love him any less. His late wife had been Silvan after all. Their son would have been Silvan/Sindar. Part of what had made Oropher a good king was his tolerance and acceptance of other elven races, and Thranduil had no intentions of not following his father's example.

"It is a very pretty leaf, my own little Greenleaf. I like the purple. Where did you find it?"

Legolas beamed at Thranduil and spoke rapidly. He could never seem to say things slowly, and ever since he'd first learnt to talk his mouth was moving more often than not.

"In the woods out back. I was out there with Gelessil collecting leaves for my leaf album. Gelessil said that this time of year is great for doing that sort of thing. She told me that is isn't polite to take a leaf from a tree without asking it for permission first, but as the trees are currently dropping all their leaves it is perfectly okay to pick them up."

Trust Gelessil to tell Legolas that. She was a Silvan elf to the core, and had been one of his late wife's childhood friends who'd come with her to the palace. Not long ago, she had stepped in and offered to teach Legolas about the woods they lived in. Everyone had gladly accepted another pair of eyes and legs to keep an eye on the prince and chase him when needed, as he wore all his nurses and tutors out, no matter how many of them there were. He never seemed to run out of energy and never stayed still, except when he was with his father. Legolas would sit quietly on his ada's lap for hours, playing with Thranduil's long blond hair and trying to braid it or just watching the world pass them by.

When he was still little, he'd gone through a stage of refusing to sleep unless his father was holding him, which had led to quite a few months of Thranduil learning how to do things one handed as a tiny elfling slept cuddled up to his chest. It had been difficult to be sure, but Thranduil could not bear to say no to his son for something that trivial. It was a blessing he even had the elfling to love and raise, and Thranduil was determined to give his son the best life possible. If that meant offending visiting dignitaries by not being able to properly greet them and disturbing council meetings for his sons feeds, then so be it. It wasn't like Thranduil cared what people thought of him, not like he cared for his son.

A knock on the doorframe had both father and son looking up to see Lagoron standing there, smiling softly at the pair.

"Am I disturbing something important? I can come back later if I am."

Before Thranduil could respond to the question, Legolas beamed and abruptly detached himself from the kings hold before flinging himself at the other elf. With the ease of much practice, Lagoron caught the prince and swung him through the air; Legolas laughed in delight as he was swung around. Thranduil watched with a smile as Lagoron carefully set his son down on his own feet; Legolas promptly showed him the leaf he'd found, chattering the whole time. Looking over Legolas's head, Lagoron caught the kings eye and gave him a pleading look as Legolas continued talking at a neck breaking speed. Thranduil tried hard not to grin too much, but suspected he'd failed miserably. Finally, sometime later, he took pity on his oldest friend who was starting to look slightly desperate and came to his rescue.

"Legolas, _ion nîn_ , I think that Lagoron has something important to tell me. Why don't you go and find Gelessil and continue looking for leaves? We can talk more tonight at dinner about what you found today."

Legolas was a very perceptive child, even with his relatively few years, and quickly took the hint.

"I guess I should probably go and find Gelessil, I left her as soon as we entered the palace and she has the rest of my leaves. She's going to teach me how to press them to make a leaf album! If we put them in as is they will fade. Why will they fade, _Ada_?"

Thranduil smiled.

"Why don't you go and ask Gelessil that? And then tonight at dinner you can tell me the answer yourself."

Beaming at the thought of teaching his father something, Legolas shot out of the room, calling for Gelessil as he went. The two elves left behind looked at each other, one with a fond smiled on his face and the other showing bemusement at the whole situation. Finally, Thranduil managed to school his wide smile into an expression more befitting a king as he nodded to his seneschal.

"Lagoron. You have something to report?"

* * *

 ** _Gelessil – Plant._**

* * *

 **AN: I've had quite a few people want to know who Legolas's parents are and where he comes from. The short answer is, I don't actually know. The long answer is, take your pick of the options listed below.**

 **Was he sent by the Valar to keep Thranduil strong and prepare him for reasons that will become apparent later, or was he simply abandoned by his birth family for whatever reason? Does he have any living relatives, or is he an orphan? We simply don't know.**

 **Is he Oropher reincarnated (he has Oropher's eyes, remember?) or is it just a coincidence that he looks like someone from the royal line? Is he somehow related to Thranduil, or not? (up to you to decide)**

 **Personally, I choose to believe the Valar were directly involved in some way. They have big plans for both Thranduil and Legolas, plans that will become more obvious in the next chapter. However, nothing is concrete so feel free to believe what you want.**

* * *

 **Reviews are awesome, and are spurring me on to finish writing and editing the half-written chapters so I can post them in a timely manner. Plus, I love hearing your thoughts on what I've written!**


	4. A visit to Rivendell

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thanks to all you lovely people who reviewed and let me know your thoughts. Thanks to you, I now know exactly who Legolas really is and how he turned up in the forest near Thranduil's palace! That being the case, I had to heavily edit this chapter and add a whole heap to it to reflect my decisions, as what I'd written before did not quite fit with my new head-canon. This took me most of the day, which is why this chapter is being posted later than normal. Still, it is here now and even better than it was before!**

 **So, a huge shout-out to aficionada-de-libros, Hawaiichick, leggyrespect123, Dola, and Issy for your reviews!**

 **Also, I know I'm not the only one who loves adorable little Legolas, and so have decided to take prompts from my readers for a chapter of short ficlets of little!elfling Legolas and loving!daddy Thranduil doing whatever it is together that you would like to read about. I've got a few ideas myself, but would love more. If you have a good idea, review this chapter and tell me your prompt, and I will see what I can do. I can't promise that I will be able to use it, but I will have a good go at it. So, please send your ideas my way!**

 **Still not beta-ed, so hopefully there are no glaring mistakes.**

 **While re-writing this, I was sorely tempted at one point to retitle it 'Thranduil in therapy', but decided against it. You'll see why. Enjoy.**

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 **Chapter 4: A visit to Rivendell**

 _Legolas is the equivalence of a human six-year-old; Arwen is about eight in human years. The twins have just come of age in terms of elf years but can act much younger at times. At this point, Celebrian is still living in Rivendell._

Thranduil strode through the halls of the Last Homely House, half searching for his son and half enjoying the fresh air. He didn't often come to this part of the world, and hadn't been here since before his marriage. He also hadn't seen his old friend Lord Elrond since the Battle of Dagorlad, in which Oropher and Gil-galad had been killed, leaving Thranduil and Elrond to take over the duties of Elvenking and Elf Lord respectively. They were both always so busy that their communication was restricted to the odd letter. However, when the messenger had arrived with the invitation for Thranduil and his household to spend some time in Rivendell with Lord Elrond and his family, the Elvenking had decided to accept. While he, like his father, found the Noldor elves in general to be rather insufferable and stuck up, Elrond was more bearable than most. The Noldor half-elf was more open and accepting than many of his kin were, and besides, Thranduil had never met Elrond's children, of which there were now three. He also thought it would be good for Legolas to meet elves who he had not grown up with, and who did not hold him in complete awe simply because he was a prince. Which, sadly, was how many of the wood elves tended to see him. No, Thranduil decided, some time away from the forest and the darkness that was steadily encroaching on it would do them all some good.

So far it had been great; Thranduil could feel the tension that had been building in him for centuries melting away the longer he stayed in the Hidden Valley. Legolas too, seemed to be enjoying himself. He'd formed a strong friendship with Elrond's young daughter, Arwen, who was only a few years older than the woodland prince, and also seemed to be getting on well with the twins, who had just passed their majority. Elves loved children, even younger elves, and Elladan and Elrohir were no exception to that rule. From the moment they'd laid eyes on him, they'd thought Legolas was adorable and wanted to take him everywhere with them. Thranduil had allowed it, believing no harm could come to his son in this place of such tranquillity and peace.

However, he hadn't taken the twins mischievous streaks or Legolas's knack for getting into trouble into account in his reckonings.

They'd been here less than a day before Legolas had ended up covered in mud and horse-hair with torn clothes and his hair full of twigs and leaves; Thranduil did not even want to know how that had happened. The twins had played innocent about the whole affair, but Thranduil hadn't bought their act for a minute. Neither had Elrond, and when they'd come out of their father's study afterwards the twins had looked suitable chastised. Since then, things had been calmer and the prince had been spending a lot of time with Arwen, who was much quieter and better behaved then her older brothers.

Though it was still early in the day, Thranduil had not yet seen his son this morning, and was starting to feel vaguely concerned because of it. He tried not to be too overprotective, but found it very hard at times. Legolas was all he had left in this world, he had stopped Thranduil from fading in grief at his wife's death, and the king didn't know what he would do if something happened to him.

As he continued to wander the paths of the Hidden Valley, Thranduil became aware of soft giggling and small splashes nearby. Heading towards the noise on silent feet, Thranduil paused behind a tree and took in the scene in front of him, feeling a great peace wash over him as he did so. In the softly lit clearing in front of him, seemingly unaware of his presence, Legolas and Arwen were sitting on the banks of a shallow brook, dangling their bare feet in the water and chatting to each other as they played a seemingly complicated game involving smooth brown river pebbles and tiny white rocks laid out on a board. As Thranduil watched them from his hiding place, Legolas moved one of the white stones with great concentration before grinning smugly at Arwen, who scowled at him. After contemplating her options carefully, Arwen moved a brown stone before smiling pleasantly at Legolas, whose eyes narrowed slightly as he observed his own options. Finally realising he had no options, Legolas scowled at Arwen.

"How do you do that? I was sure I had you this time!"

The dark-haired female elfling smiled softly at the golden-blond haired woodland prince.

"You are forgetting one important rule of the game _mellon-nin_. A brown stone, while not being worth as many points, is more versatile than a white one, and is perfect for blocking your opponent. Want to try again?" (my friend)

Legolas nodded firmly.

"Yes, and I am going to beat you this time! I can't believe that you've already won five games, while I have won none. I am going to win this next time though."

Arwen smiled smugly. In that moment, she wore the exact same expression that her father was wont to have when he was feeling particularly pleased with himself.

"We'll see about that."

Satisfied that his son was currently safe and happy, Thranduil turned to go and leave them in peace. Deep in thought, Thranduil rounded a corner only to almost bump into Lord Elrond. The Half-Elf seemed to be just as surprised that they'd almost bumped into each other as the Elvenking was. Elves had incredible hearing and situation awareness, and the fact that neither elf had heard the other one coming said a lot for their current state of awareness. Or lack thereof.

Recovering quickly, Elrond smiled at Thranduil.

"Enjoying some fresh air I see. What were you thinking about that had you so deep in thought that you didn't know I was here?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

"I could ask the same question of you. Seeing you almost ran into me."

Elrond looked amused.

"The way I see it; _you_ almost ran into _me_. But very well, I will tell you. I am currently looking for my daughter, Celebrian is worrying. Have you seen Arwen by any chance?"

Thranduil's lips twitched.

"She is currently with Legolas; they are sitting on the banks of the small brook just down the hill playing some complicated looking game with stones. From what I overheard, Arwen was winning with five games to none."

Elrond laughed heartily at hearing that.

"I can believe that all right. She frequently beats _me_ at that game. When I see her coming towards me with that board, the safest course of action is to make my excuse and undertake a dignified flight from the room. Celebrian is the only one who will play it with her now without being forced, she beats everyone else. Occasionally she even beats her mother, but Celebrian has been playing it for a longer time and knows a few little tricks that Arwen has not yet learnt."

Thranduil felt a pang of sadness when Elrond referred to his wife, but he swiftly pushed it away. His beloved might be gone, but he still had Legolas. His crown prince, his little leaf, his _son_.

Elrond gave the Elvenking a careful look before he spoke.

"There is something that I need to talk to you about, but it's something that needs to be said in private. Are you free now to come up to my study so we can talk? There will be wine."

Thranduil nodded, wondering what Elrond wanted to say to him.

"Yes, I can come with you now, and a goblet or two of wine sounds really good."

* * *

Thranduil sat in the half-elf Lords study, holding his goblet of Dorwinion wine and watching the half-elf himself pace the room. After waiting what he considered to be a decent length of time, Thranduil grew tired of Elrond's constant movement and silence.

"So, Elrond, what is so important that you feel the need to wear a path in the stone of your study's floor?"

Elrond abruptly stopped moving and dropped down to sit in his chair, reaching for his own goblet of wine and taking a gulp as he did so. Thranduil waited with an impassive expression on his face, though internally he was starting to feel a bit worried at Elrond's unusual behaviour. It was not generally characteristic of an elf to show uncertainty and nervousness so openly, and Elrond was better than most at hiding his emotions.

"There is no easy way to say this, so I am just going to ask straight out. Thranduil, how did you find Legolas?"

The question was so unexpected that the Elvenking actually choked on his wine, he'd unfortunately chosen that moment to take a sip. When he could breathe again, Thranduil raised his eyes and looked at Elrond with a blank expression.

"What do you mean by that? He is my son, everyone knows that."

"Yes." Elrond sighed. "He is your son, and I'm not saying he isn't. However, I know he wasn't born to you in the usual way. Hear me out before you say anything, please." Thranduil nodded shortly and sat back while glaring at Elrond with angry eyes, even as the half-elf managed to contain a wince and went on. "Around the time your son was due to be born, I had several very strange and disturbing visions of the future. Galadriel had them as well. I didn't understand what they meant at the time, and if Galadriel did she is not telling me. In fact, it wasn't until I met Legolas for myself a few days ago that I started to understood the full implications of the visions."

Thranduil's icy grey-blue eyes continued to bore into the half-elf's dark ones, but he didn't say a word. After a beat of silence, Elrond continued.

"The vision seemed to suggest that 'a foundling crown prince from the woodland realm' would do something great that would help save the whole of Middle Earth from evil. At the time I was very confused by this vision, as your first blood son was about to be born and I couldn't understand what the prophesy meant. After having the vision that showed me the death of your wife and unborn son, and I know for a fact they both were gone" Thranduil couldn't help wincing at that and Elrond grimaced in sympathy as he continued "and then hearing later that your son had apparently managed to somehow survive it all in spite of that, I was more confused than ever. That is part of the reason that I invited you here Thranduil. I wanted to see Legolas for myself."

"Now that I have, I think that I am starting to understand what the prophesy was saying. 'A foundling crown prince of the woodland realm'. Legolas is a prince, the son of the only elf king left in Middle Earth, but he was not born to that position. It was bestowed upon him by you, as was the title of Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm. In that way, he fits the description of the prophecy perfectly. And, if the rest of the prophesy is to be believed, Legolas will go on to do great things one day."

Elrond's previously pensive expression softened into one of sympathetic understanding as he regarded the now worried looking king.

"That being the case, I am curious as to how this came about. I suspect that Galadriel already knows, as her insight is much greater than mine, but she does not often share what she sees in her visions with anyone, not even her own husband. Celeborn does not know of this particular vision, of that I am sure. To my knowledge no one knows Legolas is adopted but me and Galadriel, and I certainly don't intend on telling anyone else."

Thranduil had finished his goblet of wine by this point, and without a word Elrond poured him another from the carafe that was sitting on the desk. He'd known this conversation would be difficult for the other elf, and so had made sure to have plenty of wine available ahead of time, in spite of it still being early in the day. Elrond generally didn't drink a lot of alcohol at any time, but knew that Thranduil was very fond of wine and consumed it in vast quantities.

Finally, Thranduil raised his head and looked Elrond in the eye.

"I should be angry at you for knowing all this, but find that I can't be. It's not your fault that you see things, often before they happen, and I am glad beyond belief that I am not cursed with that particular ability. There is a reason I give Lothlórien a wide berth. No offence meant to those who live there, but in my opinion it is better not to know what the future may bring."

"But, as you already know so much, I will tell you the full story. Yes, my unborn son died with Tathardis, and I almost faded from grief within a few hours of their passing. Lagoron managed to somehow pull me back, but I was terrified that I would not last long as I had no real incentive to live. We went out into the light part of the forest for some air, and that is where I found him. Wrapped in a blanket and placed at the base of a tree, all alone, abandoned in the wilderness for whatever reason."

Elrond winced, even as anger showed briefly in his eyes, and took a huge gulp of his own drink as Thranduil continued.

"I wasn't about to leave him there, especially after I got a look at his eyes. There was something there that drew me in, and I didn't even have to make a conscious decision as to my next move. I took him back to the palace, named him Legolas Thranduilion, and pronounced him to be the Crown Prince."

Elrond interrupted the king there with a frown.

"But what of his birth parents? While they committed a fairly serious crime in elven eyes by abandoning him, there may be legal complications if they ever surface and decide that they want him back. Unless he is an orphan, do you know if that is the case?"

"You sound just like Lagoron. Except his argument was lengthier, more involved, and much louder in volume. But, in the end, I could not argue with his logic even though I had no intentions of giving the elfling up. Before Legolas was officially crowned prince, Lagoron conducted a discrete but thorough search to try and find out the answer to those questions and several others. However, in spite of all his digging around, he found nothing to suggest Legolas's birth parents were alive, or even that they existed."

The king was frowning pensively as he said this, even as he stared into his goblet, deep in thought. Elrond did not interrupt him, even though he longed to ask more questions, as he knew Thranduil was thinking very deeply about what he had just said. It occurred to Elrond that the woodland king may very well have never spoke of his thoughts on the circumstances in which he found Legolas out loud like this, and was gaining a new perspective on events even as he did. It was not long before his suspicions were confirmed.

"It was actually a very strange situation now that I am thinking about it, Elrond. It almost seems like Legolas just appeared out of nowhere in front of me right when I needed a reason to live. How else would a newborn baby with my own father's eyes, who is obviously half Silvan/half-Sindar elf, turn up so close to the palace mere hours after I lost my own son? And why would I even care about him? I had just lost my wife and unborn son and had almost faded form grief! I was floating along in a haze of pain and confusion. Yet, it was so easy to care for the strange baby, and even go so far as to adopt him as my son without a second thought. I never thought about it like that before…"

Thranduil trailed off as he looked at Elrond, perhaps hoping for answers to his questions, but Elrond did not have any to give him. He was just as confused about things as the Elvenking was, and silence descended on the two elves as they sat there, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Elrond broke the silence.

"Does Legolas know about any of this yet?"

Thranduil shook his head.

"No, he doesn't know anything. Not that he was adopted, not that he saved my life and gives me the strength to keep living, and not that I have no idea where he came from. I will tell him one day, when he comes of age, but until then…"

Thranduil sighed wearily.

"He is the whole world to me, Elrond. You have three children and a wife, so you know something of what it feels like to love someone so deeply that you feel you are not complete without them. That is how it is with Legolas. That is one of the reasons that this vision of yours regarding his future does not give me pleasure. I know there is a great evil slowly infecting our lands, and I want to keep Legolas as far away as possible to keep him safe. Even though it is getting harder to do so as he gets older, especially as he recently decided he wants to be a warrior when he grows up, and his stubbornness when he decides he wants to do something is almost frightening in its intensity. Now you are telling me he will be instrumental in destroying whatever this growing darkness ends up being? Are you certain of this?"

Elrond gave a sigh of his own and slumped down in his chair, suddenly feeling very drained of energy.

"You can never be completely certain about the future until the events come to pass, and things can change along the way. However, based on the vision, it is clear to me that Legolas will play an important role in fighting this darkness that is slowly spreading over the world. But as to destroying it, I cannot say with certainty that it _can_ be destroyed. If it comforts you any, Thranduil, in the last vision I had of his future he was a mature adult, and was not along in this endeavour. He had companions, odd ones to be sure, but they were all completely loyal to one another and would die to protect each other. However, one thing was abundantly clear in all the visions that I have received about him, and I don't think this is going to change."

Elrond sat up straight and looked Thranduil intently in the eye as he said his next words.

"Whether for better or worse, Legolas Thranduilion is destined to do great things one day. I have the feeling that he is here with us for a reason, one that will become clear to us all when the time is right."

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 **So there we have it. Don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter, and what you would like to see in a ficlet!**


	5. King and Prince

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thank you to the reviewers of last chapter,** **aficionada-de-libros, Hawaiichick, SilverOnlyReads,** **gginsc, Guest, Dola and leggyrespect123. I will get around to replying to all who were signed in personally within the next few days, but in the meantime, here's another chapter!**

 **Also, it may be a few days before the next update as I am currently at home where I have very spotty internet connection, and I also want to do some heavy editing to the later chapters before I release them. Several plot points have changed since I first started writing this, and I want to write a few more chapters to finish off the storyline. I also want to write the ficlets chapter; thanks goes to those who have giving me suggestions for them!**

 **So, until I have more chapters ready to share with you, enjoy this one! We get to see a very different, but still caring and fiercely protective of Legolas, side of Thranduil.**

 **So enjoy, and don't forget to let me know your thoughts with a review!**

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 **Chapter 5: King and Prince**

 _Legolas is the equivalent of a human seven-year-old._

Legolas sat on his father's bed, idly swinging his legs and watching the Elvenking get ready for the day. It never ceased to fascinate the young prince with how flawless the king always managed to look. His long white-blond hair was always perfect, and his richly decorated robes seemed to do whatever he wanted them to and never get a speck of dirt on them. A far cry from Legolas's silky golden-blond locks that seemed to constantly be in his face no matter what they did, and his simple tunics and leggings that more often than not ended up covered in mud and grass stains. Long ago, Thranduil had very quickly given up trying to dress the elfling in any type of robe unless it was a formal occasion, because they always ended up either ripped or filthy or even both. It just wasn't worth it.

Once Thranduil was happy with how he looked, he picked up his crown and nodded in satisfaction at the fresh red holly berries and muted green leaves adorning it. It was winter in the Woodland Realm, and his crown reflected that perfectly. Carefully settling it on his head, Thranduil looked in his mirror one last time and nodded in satisfaction at how he looked before turning to regard his son, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. In spite of the elflings youth, Thranduil often felt that there was a much older mind residing behind those bright blue eyes. Right now, however, those eyes were blank. Thranduil internally frowned.

"What's wrong, _ion nîn_? You don't look happy." (my son)

The elfling kicked a foot against the side of the bed before speaking.

"I don't want you to go and deal with all that king stuff today. I rarely see you anymore, but at least when you are in your study I can stay with you. You haven't let me stay with you in the throne room since I was a baby. Can't you take a day off? You are the king, surely that means you're the boss? Doesn't that mean everyone has to listen to you?"

Thranduil knelt down in front of his son and spoke softly.

"I would love nothing better than to cancel everything and spend the day with you _ion nîn_ , but that is not possible. I am the king, that is true, but that does not mean that I can do whatever I want. I wish that I could. However, being the king means that I have responsibilities and obligations to those I rule. Today, especially, is one of those days when I wish I could run away and do whatever I want, but I can't. Because I am the king, I have to sit through dozens of requests and petitions our people make, and sit as judge for any grievances or problems that they bring to me. You would be bored stiff. _I_ get bored, but have to at least attempt to listen. I almost envy Lagoron and Galion, at least they get to draw straws to see who will assist me. Though come to think of it, Galion seems to lose more often than not."

In spite of his father's words, Legolas set his jaw stubbornly.

"But I want to spend the day with you. If I promise to be very quiet and not make any trouble, can I come with you? _Please_ _Ada_? I may even be able to help you!"

Thranduil studiously avoided looking directly into the elflings pleading gaze, well aware that if he did he would cave in and give Legolas what he wanted. That was always the way, he could play the stern, unfeeling Elvenking all he wished, but one look into his son's pleading eyes and his resolve completely melted, it had never failed. He couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let his son…

Thranduil blinked as a new thought occurred to him.

Why couldn't he keep his son with him today? Sure, it would probably be boring for the elfling, but if that was the case then he would be able to leave after the mid-day meal break. Legolas could stay for the morning at any rate. Having his son there may even mean that Thranduil did not get as bored as normal. Being with his son had that effect on him.

Making a decision that he hoped he wouldn't later regret, Thranduil looked his son in the eyes and smiled.

"Very well, _ion nîn_ , you may come with me today." His son's eyes lit up in delight and he made to bounce off the bed but Thranduil held up a hand to stop him and continued "but you must sit very quietly and still and not interrupt me while I am dealing with other elf's problems. If you need to say anything to me, you may do so in between me seeing people, but it had better be important. I cannot allow idle chit-chat in the throne room. You also must wear your good tunic, the long one, and your plain silver circlet."

Thranduil smiled smugly at the small groan that greeted that statement. Legolas would let the tunic slide if it meant spending more time with Thranduil, but he hated his circlet with a passion. He hated wearing it just as much as Thranduil loved seeing him in it. To Thranduil, it showed the world that this was his son, a prince. To Legolas, it made him look like a girl and feel silly.

"Do I really have to, _Ada_?"

"Yes. It is important that the Crown Prince, no matter his age, should present and conduct himself in a manner worthy of his king when in public. We have to keep up appearances, no matter what happens. It's one of the most important rules to being a royal. Others are looking up to us, and we can't let them down."

Legolas sighed unhappily.

"Okay. If it means I can spend the day with you, then I will do it."

Thranduil's smile widened.

"Come then, we must get you ready. We have a long day ahead of us my prince."

Thranduil took his son's hand and led them towards his rooms to get him ready, as his plain green tunic and dark brown leggings would not do. Thranduil could have easily called one of the maids to do it, but this was an important occasion and he wanted to make sure his son looked perfect. If that meant he was a few minutes late to the first appointment of the day, then so be it, Lagoron or Galion would handle it. Legolas was more important.

* * *

Legolas sat quietly on the armrest of his father's throne. He was wearing his good tunic, which was a rich green inlaid with silver thread, and his silky blond hair was tamed back by Thranduil's expert hand and secured by his circlet. He looked the very picture of a prince, and Thranduil could not have been more proud of him and the way he was acting. He was quiet and still, regarding everyone gravely as the king dealt with all the usual grievances that were brought to him. Occasionally he would switch position, either sitting on the back of the throne above Thranduil's head or moving to the other armrest, but he always made sure to do it in between visitors. While there were strange elves in the room, he behaved perfectly.

Even with Legolas there, the morning meetings seem to go on forever, and so it was a relief to Thranduil when his last case before lunch entered the room. He was an ambassador from a small Silvan elf settlement not that far away from the palace grounds, and Galion, who must have drawn the short straw yet again to have to announce todays cases to the king, had quietly warned him ahead of time that this particular elf seemed…touchy, and easily angered. Thranduil wasn't prejudiced towards those he ruled, but he privately though there was a lot of truth in the common Noldor saying that the pure-blooded wood elves were 'less noble and wise' then the Sindar and Noldor elves. Their lives were not easy, and the harsh woods where they had lived for centuries had shaped them into what they were today, strong-willed and ruthless when necessary. That's not to say that Thranduil, with his pure Sindar blood, was not ruthless, and his stubbornness was almost as legendary as his father's. At least his son seemed to be more even tempered, even at such a young age.

Thranduil watched carefully as the elf ambassador approached him, heralded by Galion. The Elvenking was lounging out in his chair, projecting an air of disinterest even as he watched the strange elf closely. Thranduil immediately understood why Galion had warned him beforehand, there was something about this elf that Thranduil couldn't quite place but that made him uncomfortable. Glancing quickly at Legolas, Thranduil noted that the prince was also watching the strange elf approach them warily, but was managing to hide that wariness quite well for one so young and inexperienced. Obviously, he'd picked up the strange vibe the elf was giving off as well, and wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't the only one, the half-dozen warriors, both Silvan and Sindar, who were guarding Thranduil and the young prince stiffened slightly at their posts, but gave no other sign that they were uncomfortable. In spite of their apparently relaxed posture, Thranduil had no doubt they were all ready to leap into action in a second if it became necessary to defend him or the prince.

Hopefully it wouldn't, but it never hurt to be prepared. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had tried to assassinate Thranduil in his own throne room.

Turning his attention back to his duties, Thranduil sat there stone-faced as Galion announced his last case for the morning.

"My king, may I present to you the elf Faegon of Oak Leaf Dale. He says he is here with a request for aid from his people."

Galion inclined his head briefly to his king before stepping back, leaving the strange elf standing in the open space at the foot of the stairs that led up to Thranduil's throne. Thranduil gave his chief butler and third-in-command of the royal household a brief nod of his own before focussing his full attention on the elf in front of him, noting as he did the annoyed expression on the others face. Something had him riled up.

"Well, Faegon of Oak Leaf Dale, what is it that your people sent you to ask the Elvenking about?"

The auburn-haired elf's lips curled slightly, but the rest of his expression did not change. Thranduil kept his own expression neutral as he waited for the other to talk, and beside him he knew Legolas was watching the whole scene with one of his unreadable expressions. He too, wanted to know why this angry elf was here in their normally peaceful halls.

Neither King nor Crown Prince had to wait long to find out.

"I am here to report that _your_ people are not looking after us. We have very little food left and the wood for our fires is running low. We need supplies and we need them now."

Thranduil allowed himself one slow blink as he processed the question. At its core it was a simple enough request, the people needed supplies to see them through the winter and were asking the king for aid. However, it was the way the messenger behaved and his attitude that rubbed Thranduil the wrong way.

Since the Sindar elves had first settled in this wood and established themselves as its rulers many centuries ago, they had looked after the wood elves in every way they could. Especially after Thranduil had married a wood elf maiden and made her his queen. To have this elf insult him by implying the king did not care about them or their welfare grated on Thranduil's nerves, but he kept his demeanour cold and professional.

Turning his attention back to the man in front of him, Thranduil allowed anger to creep into his eyes as he regarded this insolent elf. When he eventually spoke, his words had a rod of steel in them that succeeded in making several of the guards in the room flinch slightly, in spite of his words not being directed at them.

"What are you insinuating, elf? That your current misfortune is somehow our fault? My people's fault? My people, who are all more than happy to help those in need if they but ask nicely for aid? And have been doing that ever since we first set foot in these woods? I have many Silvan elves in my direct employ now, and I treat them as equals to my Sindar subjects who do the same work! I have a good mind to refuse your request based on your attitude alone. However, all those people back in your village are also in need, and I can't in good conscious let my subjects down. ANY of my subjects."

"So this is what I will do. You will issue me an apology for your attitude right now, and then leave my palace immediately and return to your village. When we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will bring them out. Until then, I suggest you fix your attitude towards your fellow elves, and especially those who look out for you. Now, apologise for speaking to your King in such a way."

Legolas's naturally big eyes seemed to grow even bigger as he looked between his father's stern yet perfectly composed face and the angry elf standing below them. The elf seemed to struggle with himself for a few moments before opening his mouth and looking up at Thranduil, scowl deepening as he did so.

"I apologise for my attitude, _Elvenking_."

Before Thranduil had a chance to reply to the obvious mockery of his title, he felt Legolas shift slightly beside him. The prince now had an unobstructed view of the elf below him, and was studying him intently, his head cocked slightly to one side.

"That did not sound like an apology to me I'm afraid. Now, apologise properly or I may have to have you thrown in the dungeons for insulting the king. My people do not take that sort of thing lightly. ANY of my people."

Thranduil noticed that his guards had shifted their stance slightly, ready to leap into action in a second if it became necessary to do so. At the same time, the elf's face turned a shade of red not that dissimilar to his hair at hearing the cold and detached tone of the king's voice. Legolas watched the angry elf in fascination, and Thranduil realised belatedly that this was the first time in his short life that the prince had seen someone truly angry. Elves could get cross and annoyed in certain situations, but they did not usually get angry, and if they did they were generally masters at hiding it. At least, all those who Thranduil had ever associated with were.

This elf, however, was not.

Openly glaring up at the king, the elf ambassadors eyes and lips narrowed even further when he saw Legolas openly staring at him, a child's curiosity clear in his innocent expression. Thranduil gently nudged his son, trying to take his attention away from the elf below, but to no avail. The elfling could not tear his eyes away from the elf whose face was changing colour below them.

Before Thranduil had a chance to say something and hopefully defuse the already volatile situation, the elf below him snapped.

"What are you staring at, you little _bastard_?"

Legolas just blinked at the unfamiliar Westron word, not understanding what the weird elf was implying. Looking at his father in confusion, the prince's eyes widened in shock at the sheer anger evident on his father's face. He'd thought the strange elf was angry, but he had nothing on the Elvenking. Eyes practically shooting flames, Thranduil slowly stood up and drew himself to his full height. In that moment, his appearance was enough to make a dragon flee in fear of its life, and the room itself seemed to quake before his anger. However, when he spoke it was in an even tone of voice, which served to make the image of calm and controlled rage even more frightening, even as his words were sharp enough to cut stone.

"That's enough. It's bad enough that you insulted me, to insult my son, the crown prince and heir to the throne, in such a way is unforgivable. Guards! Take this man to the dungeons, put him in the darkest and smallest cell we have and give him only plain bread and water until I command otherwise. No one is to talk to him, or interact with him, until I say so, and right now he can die down there for all I care. NO ONE gets away with insulting me or my family!"

The guards immediately snapped to attention and forcibly escorted the now white-faced and limp elf out of the throne-room. Once he was gone, Thranduil took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He would deal with the elf and his insults at a later date, right now he wasn't in a suitable state to be making any decisions that didn't end with him killing the fool. It was with this thought that Thranduil felt a gentle, yet insistence, tugging on his robe, and glanced down to see Legolas regarding him with fear-filled eyes. The elflings lips were trembling but his eyes were dry when he spoke.

"Ada? What just happened? Did I do something bad to make you angry?"

Those simple words made Thranduil's blinding rage evaporate in a matter of seconds, leaving behind it absolute horror at what his son had just witnessed. Sitting down heavily in his throne, Thranduil waved at the people surrounding them.

"Leave us. Now."

Galion was the last to leave, and he gave both royals a concerned look before he went. Thranduil had no doubt that he remained hovering just out of sight, but not quite out of calling range, should he be needed. He'd inherited Lagoron's ceaseless worry for the King by proximity to the seneschal it seemed.

Once they were alone, Thranduil's shoulders slumped and he patted his lap.

"Come here, _ion nîn_. There is nothing to be afraid of."

After a brief hesitation that almost broke Thranduil's heart, Legolas obeyed and slowly climbed into his father's lap. Once he was situated, Thranduil wrapped his arms gently around the elfling and started talking softly. What he had to say was for Legolas's ears only.

"I am not mad at you _ion nîn_ , I am mad at that idiotic elf. What he did was uncalled for and unacceptable. I am sorry beyond words that you had to witness all that, but I give you my word that, if I am ever angry around you again, I will not be angry _at_ you. Depending on what happens I might be disappointed in you sometimes or even sad, but I _promise_ you, in the name of the Valar, that I will _never_ be angry at you like that. No matter what happens."

Thranduil continued to gently hug his son; tears threatened to fall but he managed to hold them back by sheer willpower. It seemed like an age to the king before Legolas wrapped his small arms around his father and melted into the embrace. It wasn't long after that that the elfling started sobbing, Thranduil just hugged him tighter whilst murmuring softly to him and letting him cry. It was a long time before the sobs subsided into hiccups and eventually stilled altogether. Legolas was practically asleep in his father's arms by this point, the morning's events having worn him out. Thranduil smiled.

"I think that you need a nap, _ion nîn_. Come, I will take you to your rooms and get you settled. Do you want to walk?"

Thranduil asked this question only because his son had recently started complaining that he was a big elf now and didn't need to be carried everywhere. However, he was rather relieved when Legolas just shook his head and hugged Thranduil harder as they descended the stairs leading up to the throne.

"No. Carry me please Ada?"

Thranduil smiled and softly kissed the tip of one of his sons pointed ears, the only part of him that he could currently reach with relative ease. Legolas giggled and ducked his head away. Elvish ears were very sensitive, and Legolas's ears were more ticklish than most. Having receive the desired response, Thranduil smiled again as he headed to his son's room. He was pulled out of his own thoughts by the sound of that small voice saying his name.

"Ada, what was that word the angry elf said that made you also angry? I have never heard it before."

Thranduil scowled at the memory. How dare that weasel insult his son in such a way.

"It's nothing you have to concern yourself with _ion nîn_ , suffice to say that it is not a very nice word. One day, when you are much older and have learnt to speak Westron, you will likely find out the meaning. Until then, know that you are more precious to me than anything else that I own."

The elfling blinked sleepily at him.

"Even your special jewels? The ones you only wear on special occasions?"

The king smiled. He actually hated those jewels, and only wore then on formal occasions because it was a tradition started long ago by his father and was expected of the king. Legolas had apparently interpreted his actions as meaning they were special in an entirely different way.

"You are most definitely my most special jewel, _ion nîn_."

Legolas smiled softly as he snuggled deeper into Thranduil's chest. By the time they made it to his room and Thranduil laid him on his bed, he was practically already asleep. Thranduil gently kissed his forehead and turned to go back to his duties. However, before he left the room, a sleepy little voice spoke up.

"I love you, Ada."

Thranduil paused and looked back at the small form on the bed. As he met his son's sleepy eyes, he smiled the special smile he reserved just for Legolas.

"I love you to, my little greenleaf. Sweet dreams."

* * *

 **Little Legolas perched on the arm-rest of Thranduil's throne is inspired by an image I saw on pinterest depicting a similar scene. For anyone who is interested, there are some adorable fanarts of little Legolas and daddy Thranduil on pinterest, and if you are enjoying the feels this story gives you, then you will probably like the images as well. I do.**


	6. The Elfling Days-part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **I'm finally back, and I have more chapters for you to enjoy! This one took a while to write and even succeeded in giving me outtakes (something I don't think I have ever had). That is apparently what happens when the plot bunnies are completely out of control.**

 **Thanks goes to aficionada-de-libros, gginsc, Guest, Dola and Hawaiichick for their reviews of the last chapter! They are what encouraged me to finish this one.**

 **gginsc: No, that is not what everyone thinks of about Legolas. That elf is old, even by elf standards, and has seen many things in his long, hard life that makes him bitter towards everything in general and no one in particular. He is also one of the few Silvan elves not living in the palace who speaks Sindarin fluently for some reason, hence why he was sent to petition the king. Most of the people adore Legolas.**

 **Also, since so many of you have guessed it already, and it will only become more apparent as I post more chapters, I am wondering if you would like me to tell you who Legolas's parents are. I know, and I also know what happened to land him in Thranduil's path. I** **n fact, I also wrote the chapter explaining that this week and it succeeded in reducing me to tears. But that is almost the last chapter of this story, so we have a ways to go yet before all is revealed.**

 **Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Elfling days-part 1**

 _Legolas is about three years old in human years._

Thranduil was enjoying a quiet and leisurely stroll through his palace halls by himself after spending all day cooped up in council meetings. Seriously, if dealing with elves and their never-ending problems was this bad, Thranduil did not want to even contemplate what dealing with mortals would be like. Just thinking about it gave him the shivers.

Suddenly, without warning, a small elfling came flying out of nowhere and almost collided with the king's legs. Taking a second to glance up at who he'd almost run into, the elfling breathed a sigh of relief before ducking down to hide in the train of the Elvenking's robes. Looking down at where his son was hidden in the elaborate folds of his clothes in bemusement, Thranduil went to speak, but was quickly hushed.

"Shhhhhh. She's coming! Don't give me away please. I didn't mean any harm; I swear!"

Thranduil sighed as he steeled himself to sooth whatever elf his son had managed to rile up, even as his lips tilted slightly upwards in amusement.

"What did you do this time, _ion nîn_?"

Instead of answering, the tiny elfling ducked back into his hiding place and went completely still.

Wondering who it was his son was hiding from, Thranduil stood there stoically and waited to find out.

He didn't have to wait long.

In less than a minute, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps and cursing as someone a lot larger and less light on their feet than his young son made their way towards them. Thranduil felt Legolas shrink in closer to his legs as the footsteps came closer, and wondered what on earth had happened this time to make Legolas so nervous. He'd never seen this level of worry in his baby before.

Finally, the owner of the footsteps rounded the corner not far from them. Thranduil suddenly understood what had his son so terrified. Muttering angrily to herself as she approached them was the head cook of the palace kitchens. She had known Thranduil since he'd been born, having served under his father, and was one of the oldest elves in this part of the world. She was also terrifying when she was mad. In spite of his status as the king, Thranduil was even slightly afraid of her.

"Wait 'till I catch him, the little terror! I had a nice dozen pastries all set out pretty like in preparation for the King's dinner, and he goes and takes one! Without even so much as a by your leave!"

She was so caught up in her rant that the cook at first failed to notice that her King was standing there in the hall, half hidden in shadows. She couldn't fail to notice when he cleared his throat however, and she looked up with a start.

"Oh, I'm sorry my King, I did not see you standing there!"

Obviously, the King thought dryly. Oh Legolas, what have you managed to do this time?

"Is something wrong, Barhador?"

The cook opened her mouth, no doubt to begin her rant anew, but must have realised at the last moment that ranting to the king about his son's actions was not the best idea, as there was a pause before she answered.

"Yes, in my opinion there is one, my King. I had just baked a batch of these sweetcakes that you like so much, and had placed them on a tray all ready to go. A perfect elven dozen."

The King nodded slowly, looking very interested.

"And what happened?"

The cook scowled.

"Your son is what happened. My Lord." She added belatedly. "I turned my back on the tray for a second, and when I turned back, one of my perfectly arranged cakes was missing."

Thranduil nodded gravely.

"I see. How do you know it was my son?"

"I saw him trying to sneak out of the kitchen with a half-eaten cake. I may be old in body, but there's nothing wrong with my eyes. He ran, I gave chase, and now we are here. Have you seen him?"

Thranduil debated with himself as to what he should do. Finally, he decided that he couldn't let this slide.

"Legolas, I think that you owe Barhador an apology. If you wanted something to eat so badly that you couldn't wait for dinner, you should have asked. It is not right to just take something. Come out and apologise please."

Barhador's eyes widened at the king's words, and she began looking around them for the prince. Her grey eyes widened even further when a little golden head slowly appeared out of the king's robes, soon followed by the body of a small elfling. Still mostly hidden in his father's robes, Prince Legolas wrapped tiny arms around his father's leg and looked up at the cook with large blue eyes.

"I'm sorry Barhador, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just hungry, and your cakes are so yummy…"

He gave Barhador his most pleading look, the look that made his father give him whatever he wanted. It didn't have quite the same effect on the cook, but her eyes did soften slightly though her voice remained gruff.

"I accept your apology, my prince. Next time you are hungry however, ask me and I will give you something to eat. I need you to promise that you will never take anything without asking again."

Legolas glanced quickly up at his father, before looking back at the cook and nodding his small head.

"Ok. I promise that I won't take anything without asking ever again. I'm sorry, I was just so hungry."

He looked like he was trying not to cry. The cook just made a harrumphing noise, even as she tried to keep her stern face on.

"Very well. Good day my King, and my Prince; I have duties that I must attend to."

As soon as Barhador was out of sight, Legolas untangled himself from his father's robes and held up his arms.

"Pick me up, please Ada?"

He no longer looked like he was about to burst into tears. In fact, he looked very pleased with himself. Thranduil just shook his head at his son's acting ability as he scooped the small elfling up with one arm and settled him on his hip.

"What am I going to do with you, _ion nîn_? One of these days, others will stop buying your about-to-cry act. Then what will you do?"

Legolas grinned happily as he played with is father's long hair and did not reply.

Thranduil just sighed.

Why was parenting _so_ complicated?

* * *

 _Legolas is four. You can't tell me that Middle Earth does not have fairy tales, or that Thranduil would not read bedtime stories to his son and sing him to sleep._

"And so the elf princess, Gilrin, and her love, the noble elf prince Arahaelon, married and lived happily together for many long years. They had two beautiful daughters, and a son who was just as noble and brave as his father. Their love was such that, when Gilrin was injured while on a hunting trip and told she must go to Valinor to heal, Arahaelon insisted on going with her. Their youngest daughter also went with them, leaving the prince and the oldest princess to rule their kingdom. Which they did for many years, until they too were called to sail West. And so the family was reunited once again on the golden shores of Valinor, and lived peacefully there in love and health for all eternity."

Thranduil quietly closed the storybook, and smiled softly at his son's glazed over eyes. The tale of the elf princess Gilrin and her love was one of Legolas's favourites. Thranduil had lost count of how many times he'd read it to the elfling over the years. Legolas knew it so well that he could recite it word for word, and normally did.

Tonight, however, the prince was completely exhausted from running around outside for most of the day, and had fallen asleep about half-way through. Not to be deterred, Thranduil had finished reading the story, if only to spend more time with his son. The king was well aware that Legolas would not be an elfling forever. Though elven childhoods lasted longer than mortal ones, they were still over all too quickly. They were a mere blink in an elf's long life. Though he might have all the time in the world to live, Thranduil did not want to waste any of it by not spending time with Legolas when he could. Especially when the prince was still practically a baby. Even though he possessed a fierce pride and would not suffer hearing anyone call him that anymore, save for his father.

The story was long since finished, but still Thranduil sat there watching the rise and fall of Legolas's chest as his young son slept. He was clutching his toy elk, Mellon, tightly to his chest. Lagoron's wife had made for him, and given to him on his first begotten day. It was a very peaceful scene, and Thranduil found himself loathed to leave Legolas's room to seek his own rest. He knew he should, and that he would regret it tomorrow if he did not sleep, but he still did not move. It was like there was some enchantment or spell that kept him here, near his sleeping son, long after he would normally have left.

Sometime later, Legolas's eyes blinked once before clearing as he sat up and sleepily looked around the room. He quickly spotted his father still sitting by his bed, eyes vacant but not glazed over in sleep, and frowned.

"Ada, is something wrong? Why are you still here?"

His voice was so unexpected that Thranduil started slightly before smiling at the wide-eyed look the elfling was giving him.

"Nothing is wrong, _ion nîn_. I'm still here because I haven't left yet. I enjoy watching you sleep; it's one of the only times when you stay still. You know, you can slow down sometimes, the world isn't going anywhere."

Legolas was still frowning.

"But time is, and I want to use every bit of it that I can."

Thranduil smiled in amusement at the solemn look on his son's face.

"You are immortal, _ion nîn_ , you have all the time in the world to live."

The elfling set his jaw stubbornly. He had never looked more like Oropher than he did in that moment, Thranduil realised with a slight start. Before he could contemplate this thought further, Legolas spoke.

"But I will not be young forever. One day, I will be a big elf. I need to learn as much as I can now so that I will be ready!"

The surety and conviction in the small elfling's voice when he spoke about being big one day tugged at Thranduil's heart. He did not want to think about his baby growing up, and potentially leaving him.

"I am sure that when the time comes you will be ready, even without all your rushing around, _ion nîn_. You have plenty of time to both be an elfling and to grow up. But in order to do both, you need sleep. Would you like me to sing to you?"

Legolas nodded immediately as he snuggled down under his blankets again, hugging his elk tightly.

"Yes please Ada. I like your singing. Mellon likes it as well."

Thranduil smiled and started softly singing an elven lullaby as he run his fingers gently through his son's soft hair. Legolas sighed and relaxed into the touch as he drifted off to sleep again, a happy smile on his face.

It was many hours later when Thranduil finally left Legolas's room to seek a few hours of rest before the day officially started. He knew he would still be tired tomorrow, but it was worth it to spend more time with his son while he was still so small.

In his father's opinion, he would be a big elf far too soon.

* * *

 _Legolas is six._

 _Prompt from leggyrespect123: Legolas decides that he wants to be a warrior. Takes place not long before chapter 4._

Legolas marched determinedly through the palace halls, not looking right or left as he heading towards the royal wing. Finally reaching the closed door to his father's rooms, the elfling knocked firmly.

"Ada, can I come in? I have exciting news!"

Legolas's sharp ears heard several people moving around inside the room moments before the door was opened by Lagoron. The seneschal smiled warmly at the small elfling and nodded to him.

"You can go in now, my prince. We have finished our business. What has you so excited?"

Legolas just shook his head stubbornly, a huge grin lighting up his face.

"I want to tell Ada first."

Lagoron nodded, accepting that he wouldn't get an answer until the prince was ready to tell.

"Fair enough. Come Galion, we have much work to do."

Legolas stood out of the way as the brown-haired elf exited the room, eyeing the elfling mistrustfully as he did so. The head palace servant had had the misfortune of being the target for much of Legolas's mischief over the years, and always kept both eyes open when he was around the prince as a result. Normally, Legolas loved to bait him, but right now he was too excited to waste any time. As soon as the doorway was clear he rushed into the room, and climbed onto his father's knee. The Elvenking was sitting on his chair in his private audience chamber, and smiled at his excited son as Galion quietly closed the door, giving them privacy.

"What has you so excited _ion nîn_?"

"I know what I want to be when I grow up! I want to be a warrior!"

Thranduil just gaped and blinked at the excited elfling. For one of only a hand-full of times in his long life, he was completely lost for words. Legolas did not seem worried about his father's lack of response. He chattered on happily as he told the king what he'd seen on the military training grounds when he'd been out walking with Gelessil. The warriors going through their drills had made a big impression on him, and he was apparently now determined to be one of them one day.

Oh Valar, Thranduil thought once he got over the worst of his shock. Out of all the things his son could be when he grew up, did he really have to choose the most dangerous profession in the kingdom? And he was still so _young_!

Thranduil wanted to forbid his son from even considering this, but one look at the excitement and determination in those bright eyes stopped him from saying anything negative. Instead, he opted for a different approach.

"That is very nice, _ion nîn_ , but remember that you are still young, and there are many different occupations out there. I don't want you to decide something now, only to regret it in fifty or one hundred years' time. You could be a healer, or a scribe, or pretty much anything else you want. If I were you, I wouldn't be making any decisions about my future just yet. You might change your mind."

Legolas set his jaw stubbornly. It was an expression very familiar to everyone who knew the prince, and Thranduil felt his heart drop at the sight. When his son had that expression on his face, _nothing_ would change his mind. He'd proven _that_ to everyone when he was only a few months old, by refusing to sleep unless Thranduil was holding him. In the years since then, that stubbornness had only grown.

"They are all boring. I have already decided that I want to be a warrior. When can I start training, Ada?"

Thranduil was trying very hard not to panic; but, with every word Legolas said, he was losing the battle. He must have been taking too long to respond, as Legolas had stopped talking and was looking at him with concern.

"Ada? What's wrong?"

Thranduil forced himself to lock down his fear for his son's future and concentrate on what was currently in front of him. Namely Legolas.

"I am just concerned that you want to be a warrior, _ion nîn_. It is a very dangerous profession, and I do not want you getting hurt."

I also don't want you to be killed, Thranduil thought, but did not say out loud. Legolas was still too young to fully understand death and suffering. If the king had his way, Legolas would never have to experience it either. It was not a nice thing, especially to a being who was immortal.

Even Thranduil, with all his thousands of years and numerous experiences with death, did not fully grasp the concept that mortals seemed to accept so readily. That mortals died, he could readily accept, but to see an elf killed never got any easier. Especially when it was your own family.

"I will be careful Ada, and learn everything I can so that you won't have to worry about me."

"My little leaf, I will _always_ worry about you. No matter what you do or where you go, I will worry. That is part of a father's job."

Legolas was regarding his father with eyes that were no longer excited, but full of concern and sadness.

"But I don't want to worry you!"

Thranduil held out his arms, and waited until Legolas was cuddled up to him before he answered.

"I have worried about you since the first time I laid eyes on you _ion nîn_ , and I will continue to do so until the end of all things. It is part of the privilege of being a parent. We always worry about our children, even when they are all grown up and out in the world."

"I will be careful, Ada."

"I know you will be, little leaf."

There was quiet for a while as father and son cuddled together. Finally, Legolas broke the silence.

"So, when can I have a bow so I can start training?"

* * *

Poor Thranduil. I seem to be giving him such a hard time. I swear it is not intentional.

* * *

 **So, there we have it. a few light-hearted scenes in the life of Legolas and Thranduil before the storm of emotions that is to come hits.**

 **Do you want to know the truth about Legolas's parentage before it is revealed to Thranduil at the end of the story? Review and let me know!**


	7. The Elfling Days-part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Look at what I've done, gone and wasted yesterday writing about little!Legolas rather than doing something productive. *sigh* This will be the last time though, I need to get on with the later part of the story and round everything off to its conclusion before Uni starts again in less than a months time.**

 **A huge thanks goes to the reviewers of last chapter; aficionada-de-libros, Dola, Mirkwood Warrior, Issy, Guest and** **Hawaiichick. It is largely thanks to your kind words that we have this chapter at all.**

 **Written in its entirety yesterday and not beta'ed, so any mistakes are to be blamed solely on me.**

 **May I present to you The Elfling Days-part 2! Enjoy, the next chapter will feature a slightly older Legolas as we move further along on the timeline.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The Elfling Days-part 2**

 _Legolas is about nine. However, he is less than two elven years old in the flashback._

 _Prompt from Mirkwood Warrior: Legolas and Thranduil star-gazing._

Thranduil smiled at his rapidly maturing son as he gazed in wonder at the brilliant stars that twinkled overhead. Father and son were sitting together on the balcony of Thranduil's room enjoying the night sky. Thranduil was relaxing back in his chair, while Legolas was perched on the edge of the low wall surrounding them, lounging back against a column with one leg dangling freely over the side, his long blond hair loose around his face.

The position would have been perilous for anyone without an elf's superb balance, as the wall was very thin and the ground was a long way down, but neither Legolas nor Thranduil thought anything of it. Legolas regularly ran around in the treetops, on branches much thinner than this, without any problems. He had no fear of heights or of falling, and Thranduil was not worried about him anymore. Legolas was an elf, more specifically _a wood elf_ , and wood elves did not fall off things unless they wanted to. The same could not be said for all elves, Thranduil thought with no small amount of amusement, remembering an incident many ages ago that Celeborn would no doubt like him to forget.

Thranduil, however, never would. It had been far too funny to ever forget the sight of the young Sindar elf lying flat on his back in the stream, groaning as he tried to untangle himself from the vines that had somehow managed to wrap themselves around his limbs on his unintended and rapid descent from the treetops. Thranduil had laughed until his sides hurt at the sight of his often stuck-up cousin's humiliation. Eventually, he'd recovered enough to help a sodden and cursing Celeborn out of the water, though he hadn't stopped laughing for a while. He'd somehow managed to keep the incident a secret from everyone else in Doriath to help preserve what was left of his cousin's dignity, in exchange for a favour. To this day, Thranduil was not sure how he'd managed to keep the secret, but the favour had definitely been worth it.

That had been a very, _very_ long time ago, and he'd been through a lot since then. It was hard to think that he had ever been that young and carefree; thinking back Thranduil realised he hadn't been much older at that time than his son was now.

Times certainly did change.

Especially when you lived for thousands of years.

Even then, it sometimes seemed that there still wasn't enough time to do everything you wanted to.

Like spend more time with a rapidly maturing son.

Thranduil enjoyed times like this, when it was just the two of them, immensely.

The starts were very vivid tonight, more so than usual; it almost seemed like one could reach out and touch them. Thranduil had not seen them this bright in many long years, and took it as a sign to mean that there were good things coming. As for Legolas…

Thranduil smiled as he looked at his son. The young elf was completely entranced by the brilliantly bright and twinkling lights in the sky, though this was far from the first time he'd seen stars. He hadn't said a word since they'd come out here, most unusual for him as he usually had plenty to tell his father about when they were along. This time he'd been too busy star-gazing to keep up a conversation, which Thranduil silently accepted. Just being with Legolas and sharing something as special as this was enough for him.

As the two Mirkwood royals sat there in a comfortable silence, Thranduil thought back to when Legolas was much younger and had seen stars so bright for the first time. A small smiled flickered on the Elvenking's lips as he remembered that day…

 _Flashback._

 _Thranduil smiled as his baby son held tightly to his finger as they slowly walked out onto the balcony of the king's rooms. Legolas was so little that, even when he reached up, his tiny hand just brushed the tips of Thranduil's fingers. Thranduil had to stoop down slightly to allow Legolas to get a good grip, and then had to walk carefully so that he did not trip over the hem of his robes or the tiny elfling walking in front of him._

 _Once they were outside, Legolas let go of Thranduil's finger and gazed up at the sky with delight as he clapped his small hands together. The stars seemed to twinkle in greeting at the tiny elf prince as he stood there, awed at their beauty. This was the first time the elfling had seen the stars shine so bright over the Woodland Realm, and Thranduil felt a rush of contentment and love wash over him as he watched his son's happiness._

 _Lagoron stuck his head out of the doorway and spoke to the king for a moment before leaving them. Still smiling, Thranduil turned back around to watch Legolas, only to see his son balancing precariously on the top of the wall as he reached upwards. Darting forward with a speed that was unusual even for an elf, Thranduil grabbed his tiny son just as he was about to topple off. Clutching Legolas to his chest, the king tried to calm his racing heartbeat down, with limited success. It didn't help that Legolas started whimpering softly as Thranduil continued to hug him tightly. As he did, a terrible thought occurred to Thranduil._

" _Ion nîn, are you hurt?_

 _Legolas shook his head. Thranduil sighed in relief, but it was short-lived._

" _What do you think you were doing, little leaf? You could have fallen and hurt yourself!"_

 _Legolas continued to whimper as he buried his face in his father's long hair._

" _But I want to touch the pretty lights! I couldn't reach from where I was, so I figured if I climbed higher I would be able to touch them! Why am I so small? I can never reach anything!"_

 _Thranduil did not know how to respond to that. Legolas_ _ **was**_ _small, but he was also still a baby. He was supposed to be little. As for touching the stars…_

 _Thranduil continued to hug Legolas as he sat down in his chair. Once he was situated, he settled the small elfling so that he was leaning back against Thranduil's chest, the small head resting just under Thranduil's chin. Once he was satisfied they were both comfortable, Thranduil spoke gently._

" _You are supposed to be small, ion nîn. You are not yet two elven years old, but one day you will be big. You just have to be patient. But as for touching the stars…I'm afraid that, no matter how big you get, you won't be able to ever do that. I know they look big and bright, but they are a long way away. Even_ _ **I**_ _can't reach them, and I'm one of the tallest elves in these woods. They are for looking at and enjoying only, ion nîn."_

 _Legolas had since stopped whimpering and was lying there quietly, listening to his father's words. Finally, he spoke._

" _But why can't we touch them? They are so pretty, I don't understand!"_

 _Thranduil had never felt so out of control of a situation in his whole life. Then, the answer suddenly came to him and he silently thanked whatever higher power had been thoughtful enough to take pity on him for once._

" _Neither do I, ion nîn. I don't know why we can't touch the stars, but we can look at them and enjoy them. That has to be enough I'm afraid. Now, would you like me to tell you a story about how the stars came to be?"_

 _Legolas immediately nodded and snuggled closer to Thranduil, ramming his little head up under his father's chin as she settled down. In spite of it being a relatively warm night and the fact that elves did not generally feel the cold anyway, Thranduil gently draped his cloak over the tiny elfling cuddling up to his neck before he started talking._

" _It happened long ago, before the elves were awakened…"_

 _End Flashback._

Thinking back to that night, Thranduil smiled again. This time, it had a slight sadness to it as he regarded his son. Legolas, no longer so small but still just as special, was gazing up at the stars with the same wide-eyed look of wonder he'd possessed back then.

Some things hadn't changed, the king thought wistfully. Legolas still found joy and wonder in every little thing; it was in his very nature to do so. Thranduil had seen and experienced far too many hardships in his long life to ever possess that sort of innocence again. But he hoped desperately that, no matter what may happen to him in the future, Legolas would at the very least not lose his sense of wonder at the world around him.

As much as it broke Thranduil's heart to admit it, he knew he would not always be able to be there for Legolas. He would need every bit of wonder and determination he possessed to see him safely through the dark times that were almost upon them.

* * *

 _NOTES: The thought of a young and often haughty Celeborn falling out of a tree and landing flat on his back in a stream was too good not to write. You are welcome._

* * *

 _Legolas is four._

Legolas laughed delightedly as he chased the butterflies, trying to catch one and failing miserably. Thranduil watched him with a smile, wondering how long his son could keep this up for. They were in a protected clearing not far from the palace, and there were warriors posted all around them to see that no harm came to the king or the prince. Legolas had wanted to have a picnic with his Ada for ages, but the king had unfortunately been tied up in his duties a lot lately. Finally, he had a day free, and it was such a nice day that Thranduil decided it was past time to have the picnic that Legolas was constantly asking him about.

Thranduil's smile only widened as Legolas finally gave up and collapsed in a heap next to his father, breathing hard and glaring at the butterflies with annoyance. Spying his father's smile, Legolas transferred his glare to Thranduil. It was quite an intimidating glare from one so young, but Thranduil still had a strong urge to laugh at it. It was just too cute.

"Having fun, _ion nîn_?"

Legolas scowled.

"I can't catch a butterfly! I want to see one up close, but no matter what I do they keep dodging me."

The pout on the little elfling's face was completely adorable, and made Thranduil want to laugh all the more. However, he forcibly restrained himself. While it might be funny, there was a lesson to be learnt here for his son. A lesson that Thranduil felt privileged to be able to teach him.

"The reason you can't catch one is because you are not doing it right. Watch."

Thranduil stood up and walked into the centre of the clearing, his soft leather boots making no noise. The butterflies continued to flutter around, and the king calmly stood there with his hand outstretched, and waited. It was not long at all before a bright blue butterfly landed on the back of his fingers. Thranduil smiled as he heard Legolas gasp in surprise and joy before jumping up and racing towards his father. However, his sudden movement upset the butterfly, who swiftly took off again before Legolas could reach them. The elfling looked like he might cry in disappointment.

"Ada, why did it fly away?"

"It flew away because you startled it, _ion nîn_. Animals can be easily startled and scared; you have to be quiet around them and not make any sudden movements if you want them to trust you. Now come and stand with me, hold out your hand like this, and wait patiently. Remember, a sudden movement or loud noise will startle the butterflies; you must be still and quiet if you want to hold one."

Legolas carefully did as Thranduil showed him, and held out his hand towards the colourful butterflies. For what seemed like an age to the elfling nothing happened, but he took his father's advice and waited patiently. Finally, his patience was rewarded when a pretty yellow butterfly landed on his hand. Legolas froze, his blue eyes huge and his expression full of wonder as the butterfly began to walk all over the back of his hand. Thranduil carefully knelt down next to his awe-struck son and spoke softly.

"That's it son. Nice and easy. When they realise you won't hurt them they are more than willing to be friends."

Legolas managed to tear his eyes away from the butterfly dancing on the back of his hand for a moment, and gasped as he looked at his father. No less than five butterflies of various colours had settled themselves on the king's clothes, they were not moving but just sitting there contentedly.

"How did you get them to do that?"

In spite of his excitement, Legolas kept his voice soft and didn't make any sudden movements, not wanting to scare away the butterfly on his hand. Thranduil smiled.

"Elves can communicate with animals to a certain degree, though some have more of this gift than others. I have that particular talent very strongly, and always have. But any elf can communicate with animals if they are patient and kind enough."

As if to demonstrate his point, Thranduil gently removed the original blue butterfly from his clothes and placed it in the palm of Legolas's other hand. The elfling watched in sit there contentedly, flapping its wings every so often but not attempting to fly away.

Legolas smiled at it, still transfixed. Thranduil nudged him gently.

"You can talk to it son. So long as you are quiet and speak softly, they like hearing your voice. They also love being sung to."

Legolas still looked like he was in a daze, but he did manage to open his mouth.

"Hallo butterfly. You are very pretty."

The blue butterfly seemed to dance in happiness for a moment before taking off and landing lightly on Legolas's nose. The elfling gasped in surprise and went cross-eyed in his efforts to see it. The original yellow butterfly was now climbing up Legolas's sleeve, wanting attention, but the elfling ignored it. His entire focus was on the blue butterfly that was now dancing around on the tip of his nose.

As more butterflies fluttered over to join the first two, Thranduil smiled. A rather large green-and-gold one was perched on the tip of his ear, and Thranduil laughed softly as it made soft clicking noises to him. Murmuring softly so his son wouldn't hear, Thranduil said one word to it.

"Thank you, _mellon-nin_." (my friend)

He knew that the butterfly was smiling in the particular way that butterflies do as they both sat there watching his son.

* * *

 _NOTES: It is my headcannon that Thranduil has a higher-than-normal affinity with nature, even for an elf, and can communicate with many different types of animals. However, he is not a Silvan elf, and cannot communicate with trees like Legolas can, though he can sometimes sense their feelings. Legolas just loves all living things that are light and beautiful, and they love him in return. While he can't communicate with animals to the degree his father can, he can still sense their feelings, and they will generally listen to him._

* * *

 _Takes place when Legolas is about five or six._

Legolas smiled happily as he finished colouring in the picture he'd drawn of him and his father walking together in the garden, and looked over to see what Thranduil was drawing. However, his eyes quickly widened when he saw what the king had drawn.

"Woah, Ada you really drew that?"

Thranduil smiled at the top of his son's golden head, the only part of him that he could easily see right now, as he put the finishing touch to the drawing that had impressed Legolas. They were in the king's private study; Legolas was happily sitting on his father's knee as they draw pictures together. Thranduil had, as usual, been insanely busy over the last few weeks, and so this was the first time they had been able to spend a significant amount of time together in almost a month. They had still seen each other daily, and Thranduil would tuck Legolas into bed every night and read him a story, but that just wasn't enough. For either of them.

When it had become clear that the craziness that required Thranduil's attention wasn't going away anytime soon, the King had decided to act. Thranduil had, with Lagoron's and Galion's combined help, forcibly reorganised his schedule so that he would have a whole morning or afternoon free to spend with Legolas at least once a week for the foreseeable future. Kingly duties be damned, Thranduil was _not_ going to let them come between him and spending time with his only son.

"I have drawn a picture of butterflies, _ion nîn_. I may not be able to draw like you can, but animals I can manage."

Thranduil was actually an excellent artist, and had been from a young age. He'd been drawing pictures when he was barely walking that had made the oldest elves in Doriath gape in amazement at how real they had seemed. Legolas did not have that particular gift, but his pictures contained an enthusiasm and warmth that was impossible not to like. Thranduil often marvelled at the way Legolas could inject his personality into anything. Whether it was drawing, learning new skills, or simply playing, the elfling seemed to leave a trail of happiness behind him wherever he went. Though he also inevitably managed to get into mischief at the same time; Thranduil honestly did not know how he did it.

Legolas was now frowning at his own drawing, which looked very amateurish next to the perfect lines of his father's butterflies.

"You can manage much more than animals. I know, Faemes told me. She said that you might have been one of the greatest artists that Middle Earth had ever known if you had chosen that path, but you didn't."

Thranduil held back from cursing his faithful seneschal's wife, but made a mental note to have a stern talk with her later about what she told Legolas regarding him. That's what came of being surrounded by people who remembered when you'd been born, even though she had only being young herself at the time had not been involved much in his growing up.

"I may be able to draw with little effort, but that does not make your pictures any less special, _ion nîn_. In fact, they are even more precious in my eyes because you put so much work into making them special. Sometimes, it is the intention behind something that gives an item meaning, not the actual thing itself."

Legolas had turned his head around and was gazing at his father with large eyes as he processed what he was being told. Finally, he smiled.

"You really mean that? You love my drawings because I draw them, in spite of the fact your drawings look much nicer?"

Thranduil nodded.

"Yes little leaf, I love everything that you make for me or give me, and I _never_ want you to doubt yourself just because you may not have the same skills that others have. Now, will you tell me the story behind your picture?"

Legolas nodded and began happily chatting away as he added butterflies to his picture, determined to make it as special as possible. Thranduil smiled as he gently kissed the top of his son's head. Legolas was too wrapped up in his drawing to protest his father's actions, so Thranduil did it again. That caused Legolas to giggle and duck out of the away.

"Stop it Ada, you're tickling me, and I can't concentrate on my drawing!"

Thranduil just smiled that special smile he reserved just for Legolas. Father and son then went back to putting the finishing touch on their pictures before Thranduil had to leave to attend to his duties as King of the Woodland Realm.

* * *

Faemes – Radiant White. Wife of Lagoron. Named for the almost pure white hair she was born with, which is an oddity among the elves. Like Lagoron, Celeborn and Thranduil, she is a Sindar elf, born in Doriath during the first age.

 _NOTES: This last scene was inspired by an absolutely adorable picture on Pinterest of Legolas and Thranduil drawing together. It is one of my absolute favourite images, and perfectly conveys a special moment between a father and his son._

* * *

 **So, I hope you all enjoyed this little piece of fluff. Now as you have all being waiting so patiently, and no one seemed opposed to knowing, here is the truth about Legolas.**

 **He is THRANDUIL'S ACTUAL SON.**

 **Yes, he was reborn by the Valar after his premature death and sent back to Middle Earth for reasons that will be revealed in time. No one knows, not even Gandalf, though Galadriel suspects something of the like. It was kept a closely guarded secret by the Valar for reasons.**

 **I would love to know your thoughts on both this revelation, and this chapter in general. So, review please? I _love_ chatting to people, and will personally answer all who are signed in!**


	8. Archery Lessons

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Hallo again, hands up who's excited for the next instalment of our cute/angst fest. Everyone? That's great!**

 **Thanks goes to FanatsyFan101, 2 Guests, Issy, Dola, aficionada-de-libros, CoffeeRanger, ClaraThad, and SilverOnlyReads for revewing last chapter! Here's another one for you guys.**

 **Also, as so many people asked, Thranduil will find out Legolas is his actual son one day. That part of the story is already written. However, it will not be for a while.**

 **This chapter was read through by my sister and 'consultant' Freeranger, who also advised me on the archery techniques mentioned. Any mistakes that are still found are mine.** **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Archery Lessons**

 _Legolas is the equivalence of a human twelve-year-old._

"That's it my prince, draw back just a little more, aim at the target, and then release the arrow. Try not to hold it back for too long, as your grip and aim may waver if you do. That's it!"

The arrow had flown straight and hit the target. It was not a bullseye, but it was still on an inside ring and Legolas was thrilled. Looking over at his father, who was standing nearby watching him with a smile, Legolas waved to him.

"Did you see that Ada? I hit the target with my first arrow!"

Thranduil nodded and smiled at his son before catching Cúon's eye. The archery master looked slightly stunned that the prince had hit the inner rings of the target on his first try, but Thranduil wasn't. He already knew that his son had very good aim, so he was not as surprised with the result as Cúon was.

Cúon just continued to blink at the target.

"Do it again?"

Legolas nodded and carefully selected an arrow from the bin on his right side. Notching it like he'd been shown the young elf raised the bow, aimed and sighted, before releasing. Like the first arrow, this one also hit the target, even closer to the bullseye than the last one had been.

Legolas beamed.

Thranduil smiled in pride.

Cúon continued to blink in shock.

And so it went on, each arrow ending up embedded in the target, though not all were as close to the centre as the first two had been. Once he got over the worst of his shock at Legolas's natural skill, Cúon had started making minor adjustments to the prince's stance to help him achieve greater accuracy. Thranduil noted that once that was done the arrows got closer and closer to the centre. Most of the morning had passed by this point, and Legolas had yet to hit a bullseye, even though his accuracy rate was already ridiculously high. He seemed frustrated with himself in spite of that fact, even though he'd only started learning proper archery today. He'd had a toy bow when he was young, and had terrorised the inhabitants of the palace with it, but a real weapon handled very differently to the toy bow.

"How's he doing?"

Thranduil nodded at Lagoron as the latter seemed to just materialise beside him, not taking his eyes off of Legolas. Lagoron looked as well, and his eyes widened as he took in the arrow studded target.

"I take it he's doing well, judging by the target?"

Thranduil smiled smugly.

"He hasn't yet had one arrow miss."

Lagoron whistled softly.

"Wow. I knew he was a good shot, but that bow would be easily twice the weight that his toy one was."

Thranduil still did not take his eyes off of his son, even as he addressed his seneschal.

"Did you come to see me for a particular reason, Lagoron or, is this just a social visit? Or have you come to complain about Galion? Don't tell me he fell asleep on duty again. I've never known a Silvan elf to love wine like he does, but in every other way he is a model for orderliness and organisation."

"No, for once Galion isn't causing me a headache. I simply came to tell you that it is almost time for lunch. The cooks are getting twitchy as you haven't been seen for several hours now and they are not sure where you want to eat. And after lunch, your presence will be required in the throne room. A party of humans arrived from Laketown just this morning, seeking an audience with the Elvenking. What they want, I have no idea, as they won't tell me. And after that, there are a few letters that need your signature before the end of the day."

Thranduil internally groaned. There went his afternoon and evening. By rights, the letters should have been dealt with this morning, but there had been no way that Thranduil was going to miss his son's first archery lesson. As the prince got older, Thranduil was loathed to admit that he couldn't spend the time with Legolas that he once did. This was partially because the prince was more often than not outside now, learning to track and hunt game, ride and look after horses, look after weapons and armour and, Thranduil suspected, having a bit of training in them in his spare time even though he wasn't technically old enough to handle a blade just yet. He'd only just managed to convince his father to let him learnt proper archery.

Thranduil knew he was being overprotective of his son, but he couldn't help it. He was trying not to be, trying to remind himself that Legolas was no longer an elfling and that he needed to get out and experience life, but the fact that all the prince's training revolved around learning to be a warrior worried the Elvenking. Since the prince had been small he'd held one ambition in life, to be a warrior of the kingdom. And, as much as the idea terrified Thranduil, he couldn't say no to his son. After Elrond had told Thranduil of his vision some years ago, this worry had only intensified, but the Elvenking had realised that he could do nothing to stop fate. Short of leaving Middle Earth for the Undying Lands, which was not going to happen just yet. Instead, he concentrated on what he could do, keeping a close eye on Legolas's wellbeing and making sure that the boy was taught everything he would need to know about surviving in the wilderness, and then some. If Elrond's vision ever came to pass, Thranduil was going to make sure that Legolas had the highest chance of survival possible.

That didn't make losing the once innocent and cute elfling to this determined and confident young elf any easier.

Thranduil nodded to Lagoron to show he understood.

"All right, tell them I'll take it in my private chambers with the prince. We will be in as soon as Legolas finishes shooting his current lot of arrows. You can go back and tell everyone to stop worrying."

Lagoron left, and Thranduil went over to where Legolas and Cúon were standing. Seeing Thranduil approaching, Cúon straightened up and nodded respectfully at his king, while Legolas beamed.

"Did you see me Ada? I've hit the target with every arrow!"

"I know you have, _ion nîn_. I've been watching all morning and am very proud of you and your skill. You will be a great archer one day." (my son)

As he said those words, Thranduil became aware of Legolas's eyes clouding slightly. Squatting down next to his son, ignoring the fact that the action would leave the bottom of his robe covered in leaves and dust, Thranduil gently raised Legolas's chin to look him in the eye.

"What's wrong _ion nîn_? Why aren't you happy?"

Legolas dropped his eyes and shuffled his feet slightly before he answered.

"I have yet to hit a bullseye. How can I be a great archer if I can't hit what I aim at?"

There had been many times over the years when Thranduil had seriously wondered if Legolas did have Oropher's bloodline in him, as he had their inherent stubbornness. Thranduil's family had always been high achievers and sure of their own minds. Very good was not good enough, perfect was starting to get there, but they never stopped until they either became legendary or were killed in the process. It had been obvious from early on that Legolas (rather unfortunately in his father's opinion) possessed that same trait.

At times like this, it was easy to see why the majority of his subjects had found it so easy to believe that Tathardis and Thranduil's son had somehow survived the slaying of his mother and lived. Sometimes, Thranduil almost believed that himself. Especially since Legolas reminded him so much of his late wife. He was incredibly graceful and acrobatic in all his movements, just like Tathardis had been, though that trait was common among the Silvan elves. However, Legolas frequently appeared to float above the ground rather than walk on it, a skill that Tathardis had also possessed but was not that common among her people. Legolas also bore a very strong physical resemblance to the Silvan elves, being smaller and slimmer in stature than the Sindar elves technically were, even at such a young age. Yet, his eyes clearly showed Sindar heritage; and his hair colour, while not unheard off among the Silvan's, was more typical of the Sindar.

Not that any of these things mattered to Thranduil. Whether they somehow shared a bloodline or not, Legolas was his son in every way that mattered to the Elvenking.

"The answer to that, my prince, is practice. Lots and lots of practice, and one day you will be able to hit whatever you aim at first try and will wonder why you ever thought it was so hard. We all have to practice regularly to hone our skills, even I. Practice every day and follow your teacher's advice" Thranduil nodded towards Cúon who had busied himself with something over the other side of the archery range as soon as Thranduil had started talking to his son, "and you will get there. I know you will. Now, I see you have a few arrows left. Why don't you notch one and show me your stance? A bow may not be my weapon of choice, but I do know a thing or two about archery."

Legolas nodded eagerly and selected an arrow before notching it and bringing the bow up, drawing the string back as he did so until his index finger just touched the corner of his mouth. Thranduil gently changed a few small things in his stance, and had Legolas lower his aim slightly. Finally satisfied, Thranduil nodded.

"Okay, fire when you are ready."

Less than two seconds later the arrow was flying away towards the target, and hit the ring just next to the bullseye, the closest Legolas had yet gotten to his goal. The prince squealed in delight and looked at his father.

"Ada, I almost hit the bullseye!"

Thranduil, who was now standing up next to his son, nodded with a smile.

"I told you it is just practice you need. Practice every day, and very soon you will be hitting whatever you aim at first try. Now try again, and remember what I told you."

The second arrow was even closer to the centre of the target than the first, and the third one was right on the line next to the bullseye. Legolas was beside himself with excitement, and started shaking as he drew his last arrow back. Thranduil gently made him lower the bow and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down, explaining that if he tensed, he may miss the target altogether. With any type of weapon, no matter what the situation was, he must be calm and focussed if he wanted to succeed. It was no good rushing if that meant he would miss the target. At this stage of his training, it was better to take his time and make every hit count. Speed would come with time and experience.

Legolas took his father's advice, and, the next time he pulled the arrow back, he was much calmer and his hands didn't shake at all. When he released it both royals watched the arrow fly towards the target, landing in it with a solid _thwack_. Legolas, whose eyesight was slightly better than his fathers, yelled in triumph and started dancing around.

"I hit the bullseye! Ada, I _did it_!"

Thranduil looked for himself and, sure enough, the last arrow his son had shot was quivering right in the middle of the target; it had apparently had a lot of force behind it. Legolas was calling out to Cúon, whose brown eyes were wide in shock, as he danced around in excitement. He looked for all the world like an elfling again, and Thranduil shared his joy and triumph as he smiled and laid a gentle hand on his son's shoulder.

"I told you son, all it takes to succeed is practice. Lots of practice. But, if you practice enough and never give up, eventually you will succeed in whatever you do. Never forget that son, it will serve you well in the days and years to come. Of that, I have no doubt."

Legolas nodded seriously when he saw the serious expression on his father's face.

"I won't ever forget it, Ada. I promise."

* * *

 **Now, I have a question for all my loyal readers. Initially when I started writing, I planned to bring Tauriel into this. As of yet it hasn't happened though I have tried, so I thought I'd ask you guys what you want. I can't decide whether to do it or not. She would not have any great part, mainly as a main background character. Plus, her situation would bring out Thranduil's protective side, as she was abandoned in the woods when her parents were killed. That might be a fun avenue to explore.**

 **So, the question. Tauriel, or no Tauriel? Whatever option gets the most support by the time I post the next chapter will win, and if the votes are even then I will make an executive decision. So, please review and tell me what you would like to see.**


	9. Secret no more

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **The consensus from last chapter was that 99% of reviewers did not want Tauriel to come into this story. I'm fine with that, and it saves me the job of writing her in. Just expect a couple more OC's. I also do not intend to so much as mention any events of the Hobbit trilogy, and I will only touch on the events of the LOTR Trilogy as much as I need to. This story is a story about the special relationship between a father and son, and that will remain the focus. So, no Tauriel will be appearing.**

 **Thankyou for letting me know what you wanted, Issy, Ne'ith5, FanatsyFan101, aficionada-de-libros, TryniS, Hawaiichick, Guest and CoffeeRanger! It saved me having to make the decision for myself.**

 **And so, with this chapter, we leave the elfling behind and welcome in the adult elf. *TISSUE WARNING* you might need it, as Thranduil tells Legolas the secret.**

 **Enjoy?**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Secret no more**

 _Legolas has just come of age._

The Crown Prince of Mirkwood was practically beaming as he returned from his first official multiple day patrol of the forest with some of his father's warriors. He'd reached his majority the week before, and so had finally been allowed out on a real patrol. He'd been training in all the skills needed for a warrior of the Woodland Realm for years, but had not been allowed to do anything official until he'd come of age. Now that he was finally considered an adult elf, those restrictions had been lifted, and Legolas was thriving on his newly-found freedom.

However, Legolas wasn't a stupid elf. He knew that the life of a warrior of the Woodland Realm was hard and dangerous. No matter how old he was, or how much freedom he was given, he had to be sensible and careful or he may very well end up hurt or killed. Mirkwood, as the once Greenwood the Great was now called by the wood elves, was rapidly becoming a dangerous place to be. Orcs and more recently giant spiders had started to encroach on the darker parts of the forest, and in certain areas there was a fowl presence in the air. In these circumstances, one wrong or careless move may very well end in disaster. Not only for him, but for any who were with him at the time.

That is why he had to listen to and obey the orders of the older and more experienced members of the patrol at all times. Legolas might be the Crown Prince, but his father had been very firm in his decision that the Prince should start at the bottom of the military hierarchy and work his way up, just like any other young elf training to be a warrior had to do. He was to be given no special treatment just because he was the king's son, which actually suited Legolas just fine. He wanted to earn his place and the title of Warrior of the Woodland Realm, he didn't want to just be given it. He wanted to prove to everyone that he was worthy of taking his place among his father's guard, and being counted among the warriors, based on his own merit.

The Captain of their patrol had gone to report to the king as soon as they'd gotten back to the barracks. Once they had all been dismissed by the Captain's second-in-command, Legolas wearily trudged towards his rooms in the royal wing of the palace. During his initial training, he had spent a fair bit of time practically living in the military barracks in the palace grounds. Partially by choice, and partially because he'd heard whispers from the young wood elves training to be warriors that he wasn't as tough as them because he was a pampered Sindar prince. They'd said that he wouldn't be able to survive the harsh life of a Woodland warrior, and did not deserve to be one. Legolas had sure shown them the error of their judgements, and still managed to score higher than average in all his evaluations whilst living as they did. He hadn't heard anyone say a word against his abilities based on his heritage since. Rather, when it had become clear that Legolas wasn't going to boast or be arrogant about his achievements, they'd accepted him as one of them.

Legolas arrived at his suite of rooms and entered them to find a hot bath and clean clothes had been prepared for him. There was also a note from his father, requesting that he dine with the King in his private quarters that night. The wording of the letter was formal, as all the king's correspondence to his subjects tended to be regardless of the subject, but he'd signed it with _your loving father_. Legolas smiled softly at what those three simple words signified. He might be a warrior of their lands, but he was also a son. Legolas loved his father with all his heart, and knew that the king loved him, even though Thranduil could act rather cold and distant at times. While Legolas sometimes wished that his father would be a bit freer with his emotions, especially when they were alone, he still knew his father loved him very much.

Legolas was blissfully unaware of just how deep his father's love for him ran. However, he was not to remain ignorant for long.

* * *

Thranduil didn't say much during their meal, and Legolas was too tired and hungry to keep up much of a conversation, so dinner passed in a pleasant silence. It wasn't until the plates had been cleared away, and they were both sitting out on the balcony of Thranduil's rooms with twin goblets of his favourite wine, that Thranduil finally admitted to himself that he didn't have a clue how to tell Legolas the secret that he'd kept the prince's whole life. He'd promised himself he would tell Legolas the circumstances surrounding his (birth? finding? adoption?) as soon as the elf came of age. That event had been over a week ago now. Thranduil had put off telling Legolas until he came back from the patrol, hoping that some extra time would help him to formulate a plan. He had no idea how he was supposed to tell his son that they weren't actually related, and that he had no idea who Legolas's birth parents had been, or what had happened to them.

It hadn't worked, but Thranduil knew he couldn't put this off any longer. Legolas was an adult now, he deserved to know the truth. Thranduil was just terrified that the truth would prove to be too much for the sensitive young elf. There weren't many things that Thranduil feared, but Legolas rejecting him was high on that list. He'd lost one son already; he did not want to lose the only one he had left.

Legolas was watching his father with a frown, noting the pensive expression on the king's face and the slight tightening of the muscles around his eyes. Something was bothering the Elvenking, and Legolas just knew that it was something to do with him. He hoped it wasn't something bad, but the worry evident on the older elf's features was starting to make him twitchy. It also didn't escape Legolas's notice that his father had only had a few sips of wine since they'd come out here. Normally, he would have had at least half-a-goblet by now. Finally, Legolas could take the awkward silence no more.

"Ada, what is it that has you in such a state? Have I done something, or has something happened while I was gone that I should know about?"

Thranduil sighed and turned his full attention to his son. There was no easy way to say this, so he would just have to use every ounce of diplomacy he possessed and tread extremely carefully. Hopefully, what he was about to say wouldn't alienate his son from him.

Thranduil wasn't sure he would survive if Legolas rejected him.

"Nothing has happened while you were away that concerns you _ion nîn_ , and no, you have not done anything wrong either. In fact, I am very proud of you. I am told that you performed admirably while out on patrol. You did everything you were told to do by the Captain without question. Even when a small group of spiders attacked, you barely hesitated before fighting them. In spite of your relative inexperience in real combat, you did not stop fighting until they were all dead or had fled. I am very proud of you this night, my son."

Legolas looked vaguely uncomfortable by the praise the king was heaping on him, and to distract himself took a sip from his own goblet of wine. There was a prolonged pause in their conversation. When it became clear that Legolas wasn't about to say anything, Thranduil spoke softly. There was a slight tremor in his tone that caused Legolas's worry to go up a notch.

"I have something very important to tell you son, something that I've been keeping from you your whole life, something that you deserve to know about now that you are an adult. Before I tell you, however, I just want you to remember this. You are my son in every way that matters Legolas, and I love you. I promise that nothing will ever change that, no matter what you do I will always love you as my son, heir and prince."

Legolas was now looking very confused and more than a little bit unsettled by the sheer amount of emotions his father was showing. He'd often wished in the past that the king wouldn't be so uptight around him; but, now that he was showing emotions, Legolas did not quite know how to respond. He'd never seen the king behave like this…

Oh.

Legolas blinked.

This was not the stern Elvenking talking, this was a loving father talking. Feeling calmer after that revelation, Legolas face his father and smiled gently.

"Well, what is it that you have to tell me that has gotten you so emotional, Ada? You are not exactly renowned for showing emotions, you have to keep up appearances, remember? It wouldn't do for people to think that their stern King actually _cares_."

"But I do care about you Legolas, and I don't give an orcs shit about what people may think of it."

Legolas's eyebrows rose practically into his hairline. It wasn't often one heard the Elvenking swear, and he would dearly have loved to comment on that fact. Before he could voice that thought, Thranduil continued speaking.

"But we have dallied around the real point of this conversation for too long. Normally I love drawing things out, but this is one of those rare times when a more direct approach is needed. What I am about to tell you is something that only a hand-full of people know, and it will be up to you what you do with this information. Legolas, what do you know of my wife, the late queen?"

Legolas frowned.

"You mean my mother? I know that the people loved her very much, that you obviously had to have loved her to have married her, and that she died from wounds inflicted on her by orcs not long after my birth. At least, that is what the stories say. Why, is that not true?"

Thranduil sighed. There really was no easy way to say this.

"No, it is true. What most people don't know, is that her unborn son also died with her. And that I almost faded from grief within a few hours of their passing."

Legolas was looking at the king blankly as he tried to piece together what the older elf was implying. It suddenly came to him, and he took a big gulp from his goblet of wine as the full implication of his father's words sunk in.

"But…that means I'm not… _how_?"

Thranduil sighed as a single tear run down his cheek.

"My wife and son both died in the orc attack. The healers said he was killed instantly as the blade struck her in the stomach; Tathardis succumbed to her wounds less than an hour later. As a result, I went into a state of shock, and almost succumbed to grief. Lagoron managed to pull me back from the edge that time, but I was terrified that I would eventually fade completely from my grief. Elven grief is a very strong thing Legolas, and I pray to the Valar and any other being that cares enough to listen that you will never experience the death of a loved one. Not a lot can kill an elf, but grief can make the strongest among us fade away to nothing."

"That was happening with me. Lagoron could see this, and convinced me to go for a walk in the forest with him. It was while I was out there that I found you."

Legolas was leaning forward in his chair, his bright blue eyes wide as he listened to Thranduil's tale, his wine completely forgotten. His gaze never left the Elvenking's face as Thranduil continued speaking, more than one tear running down his cheeks by this point.

"You were wrapped in a blanket and resting in a small hollow in the roots of an ancient oak tree. You were so young and frail, only a day or two old at most, and when you opened those blue eyes and looked at me I fell completely in love for the second time in my life. I did not have to think twice about taking you home and naming you as my son. I know that Tathardis would have approved wholeheartedly of my actions."

"I want you to know that, while we might not be related by blood, I consider you my son in every other way. And I always have done, right from the start when I named you Legolas Thranduilion."

Legolas's face was a canvas of emotions as he processed what his father had just told him. Finally, he looked at Thranduil with turbulent eyes.

"I don't suppose that you have any idea who my birth parents are? Or were? Or why I was there?"

Thranduil felt terrible as he shook his head.

"No, I don't. Initially, my only thoughts were making sure you didn't die. Lagoron did conduct a search to see what he could find out before I officially named you Crown Prince. However, he found nothing to suggest anyone knew anything about you; it is like you just appeared. It is selfish of me, but I am glad he found nothing. To this day, I don't regret my actions, not since it was your presence that saved my life."

Legolas's facial expression was now unreadable, even as his eyes bored into Thranduil's.

"How?"

"You prevented me from fading away in grief at my wife and unborn son's deaths. You gave me something to live for and be strong for, and have bought me some of the greatest happiness that I have ever known in my many thousands of years of life. I love you more than you will ever know, my dear Greenleaf, and far more than can ever be expressed through mere words or actions. You mean more to me than anything else ever has, apart from my wife, and even then you are precious in an entirely different way. She was my wife and my beloved yes, but you are my son. Given to me by some miracle just when I thought I'd lost everyone I could ever care about. You may not have my blood flowing in your veins, but that does not make you any less of a prince or any less my son. Blood is not everything."

There, the secret that Thranduil had carried and kept hidden for so many years was finally out. His son knew; it was now up to him what he chose to do with that knowledge. If he chose to try and find his real parents, Thranduil wouldn't stop him. As much as it would pain him to do so, he would ever give the endeavour his blessing, if that was what Legolas wanted to do. Thranduil just hoped that, no matter what happened, Legolas would not abandon him completely.

For a very long time there was complete silence on the balcony as father and son sat there, each deep in their own thoughts. Legolas eventually broke the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper, and his eyes still portrayed his emotional torment.

"Could you show me the place sometime, Ada?"

Thranduil jerked up at that and stared at his son for a moment. Legolas looked slightly panicky.

"What? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Thranduil found his tongue.

"No; and yes, I can certainly show you. I will support you in whatever you decide to do with this information."

Legolas just sighed. He wasn't as surprised or upset over this as his father seemed to think he would be. Truth be told, as he'd gotten older, he'd suspected some dark secret hung over his birth. But he had never been game to ask Thranduil about it. To finally have his suspicions confirmed and explained was actually a relief. Legolas faced his father, who refused to look him in the eye, and spoke carefully.

"Ada. For as long as I can remember, you have been my father and sole parent. I could not have asked for a better one, and I still can't. I have no intentions of looking for whoever abandoned me. But I would like to see where you found me, if only to try and understand myself better. Also, who else knows about this?"

Thranduil did not look up, even as he spoke in a very soft voice.

"Lagoron, Tuchon, & Tunith know, as does Malfinnor as he was there when they died. Lord Elrond also knows thanks to his foresight, as does the Lady Galadriel, apparently. I am unaware if anyone else knows, and just haven't said anything. Our subjects believe, or choose to believe, that my son somehow survived, a rumour that I had a hand in spreading. For my son indeed lives in you, but my other son was taken from me before he was even born."

Legolas's voice was even softer than Thranduil's when he next spoke.

"Ada, why are you crying?"

It said a lot for Thranduil's current state-of-mind that he had not even realised he was. Through his whirling emotions, Thranduil slowly became aware of strong yet slender and gentle hands resting on his shoulders, and raised his head to see Legolas looking at him with concerned blue eyes. Eyes that could have easily belonged to Oropher, or one of his blood. Thranduil was just so confused right now.

Thranduil tried to smile to let his son know he would be okay. If the expression on Legolas's face was anything to go by, he didn't quite succeed. Abandoning all attempts at formulating an elaborate answer, Thranduil instead went for honesty.

"I don't want to lose you _ion nîn_ , you are all I have left that I care about in this world."

Now it was Legolas's turn to look very confused.

"Why would you lose me?"

He sounded honestly perplexed, and encouraged by this reaction Thranduil continued.

"It was always my fear that, when I finally told you the secret, you would reject me for some reason. I've lost so much already, and don't want to add you to that list."

Understanding slowly dawned in Legolas's eyes at the king's words. He was better at hiding it these days, but he still possessed the same perceptiveness that he'd had as a young child. Legolas knelt down in front of his father, and gently took Thranduil's shaking hands in his currently much steadier ones.

"Ada, please look at me."

After a brief pause, Thranduil did. He was half-afraid of what he might see in those identical pools of bright blue, but the only thing he could detect when he did look was love and acceptance. Once he was sure he had his father's attention, Legolas spoke carefully.

"It may seem strange to you Ada, and perhaps it is strange, but I am not as upset about all this as you seem to think I am. I can't be upset about something that I don't remember, especially when all I've ever known is your love for me. No matter what has happened, I've never doubted that you love me more than anything. However, I had no idea that your love for me is so strong that I was enough to prevent you fading. I do know that _I_ love you more than anything in this world, and the fact that we do not have shared blood does not diminish how I feel about you. If it pleases you, I wish to continue to be known as your son; I see no reason to tell anyone else what you have just told me. I have no wish to search for those who bought me into this world, when it was you who gave me my life. You are my father in every way that matters, and I am proud to be called your son."

Thranduil smiled tenderly at his son as he ran a still slightly shaky hand through Legolas's long silky hair, loosed from its usual braids and still slightly damp from his bath. On impulse, Thranduil ran his forefinger over the tip of his son's ear, and the resulting giggle made him smile even wider as his hand was batted playfully away. Legolas's ticklish ears never ceased to amuse his father.

"Hey, that tickles! Hands off my ears, I don't touch yours!"

Thranduil smiled in a way he hadn't for a long time.

"That is because I am a good head taller than you are _ion nîn_ ; you don't touch them because you can't reach them easily. And, now that you've passed your majority, you won't be getting any taller either. My ears are safe."

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really believe that? I'm pretty sure I could find a way around that obstacle if I wanted to."

"Ah, that may be so, but my ears aren't ticklish like yours. It would be a waste of effort."

Father and son smiled tenderly at each other, both enjoying the light-hearted banter. They'd had far too few of these moments together, especially in the last decade or so. Now that the burden that Thranduil had been carrying for years was out in the open and had been accepted by Legolas, the king felt lighter than he had since before his wife's death. His son loved him and accepted him as a father, in spite of the fact they weren't related by blood.

Though Thranduil did wonder sometimes if Oropher had had a brother or another son he'd never known about, as the Elvenking could swear that bloodline run in the prince's veins. He knew it didn't come from him, or at least he didn't see _how_ it could, as he'd always been faithful to his wife. Though Legolas was also more gentle and caring than Oropher's bloodline was wont to be. Thranduil wondered if he got his even temperament from his father or his mother. He suspected mother, simply because that temperament reminded him so strongly of Tathardis. If he didn't know better, Thranduil would have probably believed that his son had somehow been sent back to him.

Pushing all thoughts of his slain wife and son out of his head, Thranduil gave into impulse and hugged his living son, who was half-kneeling, half-standing in front of him. After a brief pause, Legolas returned the embrace. There were tears in Thranduil's eyes again as he hugged his son tightly, but this time they were tears of joy rather than of anguish. Resting his cheek on his son's head in a way he hadn't done since the latter had been an elfling, Thranduil murmured, trusting Legolas's sensitive ears to pick up his words.

"I love you, my son."

Legolas's reply was so soft that, even with his own sensitive hearing, the Elvenking almost missed it.

"I love you to, Ada. I have always loved you, and always will. No matter what may happen in the future, that will not change."

* * *

 _Many miles away in Lothlórien, the Lady of the Light saw them in a vision. Smiling gently, she observed the peaceful and heart-warming scene between father and son. Legolas was indeed a remarkable elf. Galadriel was beginning to suspect the Woodland Prince would play a much larger part in the War she knew was coming then she had previously thought._

* * *

 **So, I hope that lived up to your expectations. I apologise if Thranduil seemed overly emotional, but this was a big deal for him. His whole relationship with Legolas was built from this foundation.**

 **Also, remember that Thranduil does not know the truth. He is also naturally sceptical of the Valar, and anyone else who meddles in affairs that are not their own. He has major trust issues and is extremely proud. He does not like meddling. I can't wait until he meets Gandalf in a few chapters. *grins***

 **Don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter by leaving a review!**


	10. Legolas is poisoned-part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thankyou to my reviewers of last chapter; Ne'ith5, SilverOnlyReads, Hawaiichick, ClaraThad, Guest, CoffeeRanger, Issy and aficionada-de-libros.**

 **Now, I have another question for all my loyal readers. I am currently writing the latter chapters involving the War of the Ring and beyond, but would like to have some slightly lighter chapters before all that happens. As I am currently out of ideas, what would you like to see an adult Legolas do in the centuries leading up the War? They can involve Thranduil or not. I would love to hear your thoughts, and will consider all ideas passed onto me. Just know we already have them meeting Gandalf, and I have no intention of writing anything that is covered in any of the movies or the books in-depth, including the Hobbit movies. I also have no intentions of writing Legolas meeting Aragorn, so please don't ask me to.**

 **This chapter's subject is the result of a very painful strained upper right arm that I was inflicted with when I initially wrote it. If I was injured, why not Legolas as well? I was able to channel my own pain into the description and felt better for it. Plus, it's always fun to torture Thranduil.**

 **That sounded really bad. Should I be worried for what is left of my sanity?**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Legolas is poisoned-part 1**

 _Legolas battles orcs and gets poisoned. Because why not?_

Legolas cursed in the Silvan dialect (it had a more colourful vocabulary then Sindarin did, and he spoke both fluently) as he ducked out of the way of an orcs blade before spinning around and running the vile creature through with his own sword. No sooner was it dead, then three more seemed to take its place. Growling in annoyance and irritation Legolas attacked like a whirlwind, spinning, dodging, slashing and stabbing at the huge army of orcs that the royal party had stumbled across on what was supposed to be a pleasant hunting trip. For some reason, none of the elves had realised the orcs were there until they had practically stepped on them. There had been no time to think or formulate a plan as the orcs wasted no time in attacking. Their collective plan right now was to survive, and take out as many orcs as they could in the process.

As the last orc in this part of the battlefield lost its head to his sword, Legolas grabbed his bow and managed to shoot off three arrows, downing three more orcs, before he was forced into close combat again. Around him, he was vaguely aware that the other members of the patrol and his father were fighting just as fiercely as he was, but he did not stop to think about that now. He could not afford to lost his concentration, not when there were still so many orcs surrounding them.

Finally, the number of enemies dwindled until there was no one left to kill. Cleaning his blade of orc blood before sheathing it, Legolas walked over to stand near his father, whose once-spotless robes were now covered in spots of black orc blood. Legolas suspected that he didn't look much better, and his upper right arm ached fiercely from a small cut inflicted by one of the orcs blades. He rubbed at it absently and saw his father's eyes narrow when he saw the sliced fabric of his sleeve. Feeling very tired, Legolas just tried to smile reassuringly.

"It's not bad Ada, just a scratch. I'll be fine."

Thranduil continued to frown.

"Orcs often poison their blades son, and you can never take the chance that they may not have. Their poison is powerful, and is strong enough to kill us if an infected wound is not treated in time. It would appear that you are not the only one to have been wounded by this lot. Fortunately, no one has been killed outright, but we must get back to the palace immediately and have the injuries treated. Lagoron!"

So much for a quiet hunting trip to procure some fresh meat for the palace's larder, Legolas thought ruefully as he watched his father and the seneschal talk. The sound of their battle and the presence of the orcs alone would have made any game in the area evacuate the premises a long time ago. To add to that, his wound was starting to itch fiercely, and Legolas couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling his father's words had left. He feared that the blade that struck him may have been poisoned, that even now the toxin could be working its way through his body. It wasn't the first time Legolas had been poisoned, the giant spiders that had recently taken up permanence residence in the forests and were steadily pushing the elves further north had made sure of that. However, their poison was not meant to kill, they only sought to incapacitate their victims until they were ready for a meal. They liked their meat as fresh as possible.

Legolas winced as the itch in his arm suddenly increased to an almost unbearable level, and he grit his teeth as he fought not to give in to the temptation to scratch it again. Everyone who lived in the forest knew that, if you had been poisoned, then scratching the wound would only make it worse.

Legolas was concentrating so hard on not scratching his arm, that he failed to notice his father had returned to his side until he spoke.

"What's wrong _ion nîn_?"

Legolas glanced at his arm and winced again.

"It's my arm Ada, it has started hurting really bad."

Thranduil's eyes widened in dismay and horror but his voice, when he spoke, was steady.

"Can you describe what the pain feels like?"

"It's like an itch, but an itch the likes of which I have never experienced before. I've never been in pain from an itch before, and this feels like my whole arm is on fire."

Without saying another word, Thranduil spun around and yelled for Lagoron, who appeared beside him seconds later looking very alarmed at the tone of voice the king had used.

"What is it, my King?"

"Legolas has been poisoned by an orcs blade. I need to get him back to the palace healers immediately. Does anyone else seem to be affected?"

Lagoron's eyes widened in horror as the King's words sunk in, but he shook his head.

"No, everyone else seems to be fine. Go Thranduil, your horse is strong enough to carry both of you. I'll bring Legolas's horse back after I finish cleaning up this mess."

Thranduil didn't need to be told twice, and, before Legolas knew what was happening, he was on a horse in front of his father and they were galloping in the direction of the palace, which was a few hours ride away. They'd ridden out bareback so there was no saddle to worry about, which Thranduil was grateful for. It was much easier for a horse to carry double that way. Normally, Legolas would have protested that he could ride his own horse, but his head was starting to feel funny and he didn't have the energy to protest. On top of that, his limbs didn't seem to be listening to him right now, and he was very tired…

Thranduil was alarmed when he felt his son's body go lax against his chest, and urged his horse to go faster. The poison was taking hold very fast, and dimly Thranduil wondered when the injury had occurred. They'd battled the orcs for a fair length of time, and the injury could have occurred at any point. If it had been early on, then the adrenalin the battle generated would have pumped the poison through Legolas's system. That could explain why it was taking hold so fast, but Thranduil could not allow his son to lose consciousness.

"Legolas, wake up! You can sleep later _ion nîn_ , right now you have to stay awake! Come back to me, please!"

But his words proved to be in vain as Legolas did not respond. Dismayed, Thranduil thought fast, and an idea came to him that would have made him grin if the situation wasn't so grim. Reaching up with his left hand, Thranduil ran his fingers over the tip of Legolas's left ear. The result was almost instantaneous.

"Ah!"

Legolas snapped back to awareness and tried to bat Thranduil's hand away, but he was too weak from the poison wreaking havoc in his system to do more than weakly lift his hand to chest height. Still, at least he was aware now, the Elvenking though. So long as Thranduil could keep him that way until they got to the palace, then there was a good chance that he would recover.

"Sorry _ion nîn_ , but you have to stay awake. If you sleep now, you may very well not wake up again. Stay with me Legolas, please! We are almost half-way to the palace, it won't be long before you can rest all you want. But right now, you have to stay awake! Please."

Legolas tried, he really did, but every so often he would start to drift off. When that happened, Thranduil would tweak his ears again, which always jerked him back to consciousness. It seemed like an age to the king before the gates of his palace came into view. A lookout had obviously spotted him as they stood open, and the guards waved them through. Arriving in the courtyard area, Thranduil was not surprised to see Tuchon, Tunith and Malfinnor waiting for him. No sooner had this panting, sweat-covered horse came to a holt, then Tunith and Malfinnor ran to take Legolas from him while Tuchon strode along behind them looking worried.

"What happened?"

Thranduil didn't waste words.

"Poisoned orc blade. Upper right arm. Quite a few hours ago now."

Tuchon cursed and raced towards the healing halls, rapidly issuing orders in the Silvan dialect as he did so. Immediately, the place leapt into action. As soon as Tunith and Malfinnor carried a semi-conscious Legolas into the hall and laid him on a bed, at least half-a-dozen healers pounced on him and pushed Thranduil out of the room. Thranduil, as much as it pained him to do nothing, hovered just outside the door, out of the healer's way. He knew that there wasn't anything he could do to help as he was no healer, but all his instincts were screaming at him to be in there with his son.

He had resorted to sitting just outside the door when Lagoron found him some hours later, though the activity in the room had somewhat ceased by that point. Taking in the King's tired and worried expression, along with the fact he was still wearing his orc blood-splattered robes, had Lagoron frowning.

"The healers haven't told you anything yet?"

Thranduil shook his head mutely, and Lagoron just sighed as he sat down next to his King. The whole way back to the palace, he'd been thinking and worrying about both Legolas and Thranduil. At least it appeared that Legolas was the only elf to have being injured with a poisoned blade, which was a relief. Though everyone else needed to be checked out by the healers as soon as possible just to make sure, so far none of the other injured was showing any signs of having been poisoned.

Which meant Legolas was the only one who had managed to garner that particular present from the orc pack.

Lagoron silently sighed.

Excitement and trouble always seemed to find the prince, no matter where he went or what he did. Lagoron felt that this was no exception. He just hoped that they were given news on Legolas's condition soon.

As if in answer to his thoughts, Tuchon appeared in the doorway to the room, looking rumpled and tired but smiling. Thranduil was on his feet in a heartbeat and looked intensely at the healer.

"How is he?"

Tuchon smiled wider.

"He is going to be fine, but he will need lots of rest over the next few weeks to recover his strength. The poison was a very strong concoction, and had been in his system for some time. It's all gone now and we've treated the wound, but it will take him some time to recover. You can come in now if you like. He is currently sleeping, and probably will for some hours yet as we gave him some sleeping herbs, but I know you want to reassure yourself that he is okay."

Tuchon stepped aside and smiled knowingly at Lagoron, who returned the look as the king practically charged into the room to see his son. Lagoron suspected it would have taken a herd of Balrogs to stop him, and even then the King would probably have cut the demons down without a second thought to get to his son. Thranduil doted on the boy beyond all reason, and Legolas returned his father's affections with interest. In all his long years of life, Lagoron had never seen a father and son form as close a bond as those two had. It was a remarkable thing, especially for two elves who weren't related by blood. Though sometimes he had to wonder if that was actually true, as Thranduil and Legolas were really too much alike in so many ways for it to be a coincidence.

Glancing into the room, Tuchon noted that Thranduil was now sitting in a chair near Legolas with a bowed head. He was holding his unconscious son's left hand and saying something softly that even the head healer's sensitive ears couldn't catch, which was a good indication that whatever he was saying was only meant for Legolas's ears.

"If you are available now Tuchon, I would greatly appreciate it if you would check over the other members of our party who were injured. So far, no one else has shown symptoms of poison, but it never hurts to make sure."

Tuchon nodded at Lagoron, grateful for the distraction.

"Wise words old friend, very wise words. Come, let us give our King and Prince some privacy while I attend to others who are also in need of my aid. Legolas will be fine, right now he just needs rest. From the look of him, I'd say that Thranduil does as well."

* * *

 ***sighs at that beautiful mental image of a concerned father watching over his son***

 **Don't forget to review and let me know your ideas for more one-shots you would like to see.**


	11. Legolas is poisoned-part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thankyou to all my reviewers of last chapter; Hawaiichick, gginsc, Dola, leggyrespect123, Freeranger, CoffeeRanger, and aficionado-de-libros.**

 **Coffeeranger: I have posted a response to your review at the end of this chapter.**

 **Updates are not going to be as fast from here, probably every two days rather than almost every day. The reason being I only have another four chapters fully-written, and want time to finish the other seven or so that are sitting there in various states of completion. This story just keeps growing. We are currently at, like, twenty-three chapters.**

 **Enjoy this one!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Legolas is poisoned-part 2**

 _This is the Legolas recovers and drives everyone crazy in the process part of the previous story. And then we have some thoughtful Thranduil to balance it out._

Legolas was bored out of his mind. Even with frequent visits from his father and many friends the prince still felt like he would go stir crazy if he remained her for much longer.

He'd been cooped up in the Halls of Healing for almost six days now, and was practically climbing the walls in his desire to be free. He'd tried to make several escape attempts during that time, but to his frustration he was still too weak to move fast or be very quiet, and had quickly been found and marched back. The poison had really wreaked havoc on his system. At least he'd been allowed to glue fletching's onto arrows during his enforced bedrest, but they had lost their allure on day four, after he'd made enough that he probably wouldn't have to make arrows again for several moon phases. He'd tried reading on day five, a pastime he usually enjoyed, but he'd been too twitchy to concentrate properly on the words. That twitchiness was even worse today, and Legolas wanted nothing more than to leap off the bed and start running until he ran out of ground to run on. Sadly, while he was regaining his strength, he wasn't quite strong enough for that yet, nor did he have the energy. He would probably collapse before he made it out of the Healing Halls.

He was still seriously considering doing it, or at least trying to. Even though he would doubtlessly be caught before he got very far, it would provide some amusement in the meantime.

Making his mind up swiftly, Legolas jumped out of bed and was half-way to the door when Malfinnor casually walked into his room. The older healer gave him a look that made Legolas feel like he was a small elfling caught doing something he shouldn't be. Not sure what to do, as he'd been caught red-handed in the act of sneaking out, Legolas went for a bright smile.

"Malfinnor! There you are. I need some water. I was going to go and fetch it myself, but seeing that you are now here, would you be able to do it for me please? I'm still not very steady on my feet."

Malfinnor gave him a look that said he wasn't buying Legolas's story for one moment.

"Really? What's wrong with the full jug of fresh water I left in here not half-an-hour ago? Surely you haven't drunk it all already?"

Had it really only being half-an-hour since Malfinnor had last checked on him? It felt like a century. At least. Legolas sighed, defeated, and slowly returned to bed. Malfinnor tried not to smile too smugly at seeing the prince's crest-fallen look, but it was hard. Once he was satisfied his patience was indeed on the mend, in spite of his ill-timed escape attempt, the healer charged with nursing him smiled gently at the prince.

"Tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. If you stay in here and behave yourself for the rest of today, tomorrow I will let you go outside for a while. You are recovering nicely, and should be strong enough for a stroll tomorrow, but you must rest today or you will be too tired. Do we have a deal?"

Legolas only took a fraction of a second to agree.

"Yes, we do. Am I allowed to walk around this room though, as long as I promise not to go outside it? I need to move."

"Yes, so long as you are sensible and don't overdo it. I will be back in an hour or so to check on you, and I expect you to be in bed and resting when I return."

Legolas nodded meekly, his longing for the outdoors causing him to yield to the healer without complaint. Malfinnor smiled as he left the room. He may have just discovered the right way to deal with the prince when he was injured.

* * *

Thranduil frowned around at the three people currently gathered in his study as they all studied the blueprint lying on the table in front of them. Cúon, the archery master, broke the silence.

"And this new design of dagger will help our warriors how exactly?"

Húron, a Silvan elf and one of the leading warriors of the Woodland Realm and the royal weapons master, smiled grimly.

"It will help our warriors because it will be lighter and faster to handle than a sword, and, if a pair of daggers are used, they will be far more deadly than a single sword if wielded correctly. Not that I'm saying that swords are useless. However, with the growing darkness and frequent close-combat fights we engage in with the spiders especially, long daggers will be a more versatile weapon than swords. Especially for the younger elves who don't have the experience of large scale battles behind them that we all do. They are more used to one-on-one close combat fighting."

Lagoron frowned at the blueprint.

"So how big will they be exactly?"

"Pretty much the size of this drawing, or the length of a short sword, but they will be much lighter in weight than a sword is. The shape will ensure they are very strong."

Thranduil entered the conversation for the first time.

"Do you plan on continuing to train the warriors in sword fighting techniques, and use these daggers as a supplement to the sword, or to phase swords out of the regime? Because I can tell you right now that I will not approve that change."

Húron immediately shook his head.

"It would initially be a supplement to their training, at least until we see how the idea works out. After that, well, I'm leaning towards allowing each warrior to pick their primary close-range weapon, whether it be a sword, a pair of daggers, or even both. With how fast and accurate some of these youngsters are with their single blades, I have a feeling that if we placed dual daggers in their hands they would be practically unstoppable. I've had a few of them work with a parrying dagger and the short sword, and the results were very promising. Your son, especially, exceled at using the two weapons at once, my King."

Thranduil frowned at the weapons master.

"You taught him how to parry a blow? Why?"

Húron was not the least worried by Thranduil's concern. He was too old for that.

"I've taught most of the young ones at least the basics of using a parrying dagger. I am employed to teach them the use of the sword, and parrying is occasionally a useful technique to know. Not that any of them actually carry that type of dagger out on patrol with them. It was actually Legolas's remarkable skill using two blades simultaneously that led me to seriously consider this and develop those designs. Swords are great weapons, but they are not for everyone. It may be time for a change."

Thranduil frowned as he thought on the weapon master's words. He couldn't help but remember the fight with orcs almost a week ago that had ended with Legolas being poisoned. Thranduil had observed his son fighting as much as he'd been able to during that battle. He was forced to agree with Húron on one thing, though he would never admit it out loud. Legolas was a competent swordsman, but he would never be up to Thranduil's standard, or even close to the standard of Lagoron or Cúon, who had both fought side-by-side with Thranduil in the last alliance.

It may be because of the fact that his fighting style was very different to theirs. He was far more acrobatic and agile in his movement than any of them had ever been, and he used that to his advantage in combat. Rather like many of the younger elves, Thranduil realised with a start. They tended to be a lot more agile and acrobatic in their movements than the more mature and experienced warriors, both Silvan and Sindar, were. Both styles doubtlessly had their uses and were effective, but it made sense that different fighting styles would require different weapons.

The more he thought about it in this way, the more sense it made to say yes to this project. After all, what did they have to lose? If it didn't work, then it didn't work. And, if it did work, they'd be playing to the warrior's strengths. With that thought, Thranduil made his decision.

"Okay, I approve of this project and you have my permission to make some of these daggers and try them out. However, no one is to take them out on patrols until we are sure they are going to work. And sword training will still be a compulsory part of the regime for all warriors in training."

Húron was practically beaming as he swiftly rolled up the blueprint and made to leave before the King could change his mind.

"They will work; I just know it. Thankyou my King. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have an urgent appointment with the royal blacksmith."

* * *

 _A few weeks later._

Húron had been right, Thranduil thought as he hid in the bushes near the training grounds and observed the young warriors practicing with their brand new dual long daggers. They were deadly with those things, and the lighter weight only made their movements faster. Seems Húron knew what he was talking about thought Thranduil, and then wondered why he was so surprised. Húron had served as his father's weapons master for centuries, and was in all likeliness older than Thranduil by an unknown number of years. He'd fought in pretty much every major battle involving elves since at least the end of the first age, and was a warrior in every sense of the word. Of course he knew what he was talking about.

While he was watching the whole group, Thranduil's eyes kept straying to Legolas, who had finally been deemed recovered from the poison and allowed out to train with the daggers like all the rest. The prince had no idea his father was watching him, and Thranduil wanted to keep it that way and just observe.

While most of the warriors were handling the blades very well, Legolas was handling them as if he'd been born to do it. The sleek daggers seemed to become an extension of his own arms, his own being, as he wielded them with a new level of grace and accuracy that Thranduil had no idea his son possessed. In that moment, he looked eerily like some of the great warriors of old, Gil-galad and even Oropher being two names that immediately sprung to the Kings' mind. And this was just a practice drill, they were simply going through the motions without actually fighting an opponent. Thranduil couldn't begin to imagine what Legolas would look like in real combat.

He guessed swords really weren't meant for everyone.

Thranduil continued to watch in fascination for a while longer as the warriors continued with their drills. Naturally, he watched Legolas the most. By the time he left the training grounds to go back to his paperwork, the seed of an idea had sown itself in the King's mind. The more he thought about his idea, the happier the King felt. Yes, he would definitely have make time to see the royal blacksmith very soon.

* * *

 _A few months later._

Legolas looked at the objects in his hands in disbelief, before looking up at his father in awe.

"These are really for me?"

Thranduil nodded, trying not to grin like an idiot at seeing the joy on his son's face.

"Yes, I wouldn't have given them to you if they weren't. I have realised for a while now that you are not as skilled with a sword as you are with dual daggers, and so I had these made especially. The handles are made of imported ivory, and the steel blade itself is specially hardened. You will still need to look after them and keep them sharp, but they will just not dull as easily as most blades do. They are also almost impossible to break."

Legolas examined the twin knives with wide eyes, reverently running his hands over them as he took in every detail. The ivory handles fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, and Legolas realised that they had indeed been custom made. He lightly ran a finger down the blades, noting the sharpness and shape of the steel, before spinning them around in his hands a few times to get the feel of them. Thranduil just watched him with a smile. Finally, Legolas managed to tear his gaze away from the present, and looked at his father.

"These are perfect. Perfectly balanced, perfectly weighted, and the perfect shape to fit comfortably into my hands. Thank you, Ada."

Thranduil's smile widened.

"They are indeed perfect. I highly doubt you will find better daggers in the whole of Middle Earth. Only the best for my son."

Legolas smiled.

"You spoil me, Ada."

Thranduil chuckled.

"So, maybe I do. But you are worth every bit of it. Now, let us go to the training grounds so you can try these out, as I'm sure you are longing to do."

* * *

 **I really wanted Legolas's knives to be a present from** **Thranduil. I started wondering how I would do it, and this scenario was born. Not sure what the plot bunnies were thinking, but here you have it.**

 **So, thoughts on part 2?**

* * *

 _Response to Guest review:_

 _CoffeeRanger: Thank you for your long review! I really want to answer personally, but as you commented as a guest I have to resort to responding in the author's note. I'm glad that you don't think my sanity is at risk. Fanfiction writers are a brutal bunch, sometimes it seems we live to torture poor innocent characters who have done nothing to deserve it. I know that I do._

 _If poison fascinates you, you would love Australia. Everything here, from plants to spiders to snakes to scorpions to various poisonous animals is out to get you. I am not joking; I believe that we have some of the most poisonous animals on the whole planet. But in answer to your question, it's just a random poison that Legolas had the misfortune of encountering. Anything beyond that requires too much brainwork for something that I started writing for fun._

 _The Hobbit movies were ok (some great action, even if it was over-the-top with CGI at times) but there is a good reason I am, well, not ignoring them in this story, but also not acknowledging them. I love the original trilogy, but for what was supposed to be a prequel the Hobbit left some pretty big plot holes. Not least of which is the fact that Orlando Bloom is visibly older in the Hobbit then LOTR. That fact is going to amuse me until my dying day. Maybe that's the deep dark secret to elven immortality, they age in reverse! So they are actually born old and get younger as they go (I am investing way too much time in this thought)._

 _Lagoron deserves a medal, he really does. He has to not only organise Thranduil and his life, but also deal with Legolas's and Galion's problems! Poor man._

 _My arm is fine now. Let's just say that it is not advisable to land on a rollerblading rink elbow first. The results can vary, but will most likely be painful._


	12. Growing Pains

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **And so we come to another chapter. Thank you reviewers of last chapter: SilverOnlyReads, gginsc, Dola, aficionada-de-libros, Guest, Cold Outside, CoffeeRanger and Ne'ith5.**

 **I don't think that there is anything to say here. More notes at end of chapter.**

 **Possible alternate title: Legolas learns adulting. I honestly did not know what to title this chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Growing Pains**

 _Legolas is probably about 800-900 years old. This chapter started out as my attempts to write the Mirkwood royals having a friendly spar, and morphed into Thranduil giving Legolas relationship advice(?) Not sure how that happened, but the initial idea was suggested by leggyrespect123._

For once, there was nothing happening that required his immediate attention. Everything seemed to be running smoothly in the woodland kingdom, and the Elvenking had a rare afternoon off to do as he pleased.

Days off were so few and far between that, when they did happen, Thranduil did not immediately know what he wanted to do.

Apart from spend time with his son. But where Legolas currently was, was anyone's guess. He hadn't been around much in the past few weeks. Besides, what could they do together that would interest them both?

When Legolas had still been an elfling, it had been easy. He was always happy to do anything with his Ada that Thranduil had come up with. It was when he'd reached adolescence and started training to be a warrior in earnest that things had gotten more difficult. Thranduil had had to find activities that they would both be able to do, yet still enjoy. As time went on, the problem only grew. This time, it was also complicated by the fact Thranduil did not want to leave the palace grounds to do anything. The last time Thranduil had some time off and they'd left to go hunting, they'd been ambushed by orcs and Legolas had been poisoned. The king shuddered at the memory. No, he needed to find something less dangerous to do that would keep them here.

Maybe he should ask Legolas what he wanted to do.

Providing he could be found. For not being out on any patrols at the moment, the prince was very rarely seen around the palace.

His mind made up, Thranduil strode out of his study, calling for Lagoron. As he headed down the hall looking for his seneschal, the Elvenking came across Galion supervising two other servants in arranging flowers. The butler looked up and bowed at the sight of his king.

"Your majesty. Can I do anything for you?"

Thranduil frowned slightly.

"Perhaps. I am looking for my son. Do you know where he is?"

Galion shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I do not. I have not seen him very much at all for the last couple of weeks."

Neither have I, thought Thranduil. I hope everything is okay. It's not like Legolas to avoid people.

One of the maids arranging the flowers had paused in her work upon hearing the king's question, and now boldly spoke up.

"If it pleases your majesty, I might know where Prince Legolas is."

Thranduil turned his attention to her.

"Yes?"

The dark-haired elf maiden blushed furiously upon finding the king's full attention fixed on her, but managed to answer him.

"I saw him just this morning. I sometimes help out in the kitchens, and Prince Legolas dropped by early. He said he was going to be out training all day, and not to expect him for any meals until tonight. He took some food with him. Does that help?"

The king nodded.

"Yes, it does indeed. Thankyou…?"

The she-elf blushed even harder.

"My name is Aeweth, my king."

Thranduil smiled gently at her.

"Thank you, Aeweth. Congratulations on the flower arrangements. I like them."

Then, before any of the servants could react to his words, Thranduil was gone. Once he was a good distance away, he chortled to himself as he thought of the gossip that would doubtlessly result from this little encounter. Thranduil might have the reputation of being a cold-hearted bastard (don't be shocked; he'd heard himself called less…savoury, things over time), but all who lived in his palace knew that he cared deeply about all his people. He just didn't often show it. Those flower arrangements _had_ been lovely however, and Thranduil believed in giving praise when it was due. He might have to talk to Galion later about having Aeweth organise the table decorations for the next formal event. It was always good to encourage the youngsters, though Thranduil knew in all likeliness she was older than his son. Still, that was young by his standards.

Filing those thoughts away for later, Thranduil headed outside towards the training grounds to hopefully find his son.

* * *

Legolas set down his bow and stretched his aching back muscles as he regarded the archery targets he'd been using with his head to one side. Every single arrow had landed exactly where he wanted it to. Legolas was not surprised. He'd put hundreds and hundreds of hours into practicing his archery skills over the years, and anything less than a perfect result would have been an insult.

Legolas felt, rather than heard, his father approaching. Turning around, the prince greeted the king with a smile.

"Ada! What brings you out here?"

Thranduil smiled in return at Legolas, before nodding at the targets.

"I came to see what you were doing. I see that you are aiming to put our other archers out of business."

Legolas shrugged.

"No chance of that, we need all the archers we can get. The spiders are multiplying. No matter how many we kill, twice the numbers take their places."

Thranduil sighed heavily, reluctantly acknowledging his son's words as being too true. The woodland elves were hard pressed by the evil creatures infesting the forest. Several elven settlements situated near the borders had had to be deserted very recently; as the elves living in them had grown weary of the constant attacks and moved closer to the King's halls for safety.

Legolas moved forward and began retrieving his arrows. Thranduil helped him.

"How did you know I was here?"

Thranduil smiled at his son's question.

"A young maid told me, Aeweth. She seemed very keen to do so."

Legolas went slightly pink.

"Figures."

Thranduil stopped retrieving arrows and gave his son a shrewd look.

"It there something you want to tell me, son?"

Legolas was now a bright pink.

"No, nothing that you'd be interested in, Ada."

"Oh really? Then why are you blushing?"

Legolas tried to hide his face by turning slightly away from his father and concentrating intently on his arrows.

"I'm not."

Thranduil grinned.

"Oh yes you are. Does it have something to do with that maid? Do you perhaps _like_ her?"

Legolas spluttered and dropped the arrows he'd been holding.

"No, NO! Oh Valar, NO! Not like that. Certainly, most definitely, not like that."

"I see." Thranduil was having way too much fun. "Does she feel the same way about you?"

Legolas looked like he wished the ground would open up so he could jump into the resulting hole and escape this awkward conversation with his father. Unfortunately, that did not happen, and after a long pause the prince felt that he had to say something. If only to take that smug look off his father's face. It was most certainly _not_ like that!

"I like her well enough as a friend, but she is constantly after me. I have become something of an obsession to her lately. It's creepy."

Thranduil did not look quite so amused at hearing that someone was creeping out his son.

"Have you told her you're not interested?"

Legolas sighed.

"Kind of."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in question.

"Kind of?"

Legolas looked at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he mumbled so softly that anyone standing more than a foot or two away who did not possess an elf's hearing would not have understood him. Thranduil was hard pressed as it was.

"She scares me. I don't know what to say to her."

Thranduil blinked. One, twice, three times. Then, before he could stop himself, he started laughing. Hard. Oh, this was just too good, way too good. His son was being stalked by a determined she-elf, and he was too scared of her to even ask her to stop. Thranduil did feel some pity for his son's predicament, but Legolas's embarrassment was still terribly funny to the king.

Legolas Thranduilion, the Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm and Thranduil's heir, who'd led patrols through dangerous territory and faced packs of orcs and spiders without flinching, was too scared to talk to an elf maiden who fancied him! Thranduil doubled over and clutched his stomach as he continued to laugh uncontrollably. Oh yes, this was way too good.

Legolas looked like he'd been trampled on by a pack of extremely dirty and smelly orcs as he gaped at his father. The king was _laughing at him_? That was not fair! It was a very awkward and stressful situation that Legolas did not know how to handle! His father should be helping him, not laughing at him! Legolas continued to stare at his father with a dropped jaw, not quite believing his eyes.

Finally, the king regained most of his composure and smiled kindly at Legolas, though his eyes were still full of mirth.

"Oh son, welcome to the ways of the real world. Frankly, I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner. But then, since you came of age, you don't spend huge amounts of time at the palace anymore. You are young, attractive, unattached, have impressive skills with the bow and your knives, and are the crown prince to boot. I'm sure that Aeweth is far from the last maiden who is going to be captivated by you and what you represent. But, if you are seriously not interested in her, you need to talk to her and make that fact very clear. The longer this goes on, the harder it will be for both of you to face it."

Legolas's shoulders slumped.

"I realise that, but how do I make her stop? My legs go weak and I get really nervous when I'm around her. Girls are scary when they are after you."

Thranduil did not disagree.

"They are. When I was young, I would rather have faced the full force of my father's wrath than an elf maiden who'd decided she fancied me. That changed when I met my late wife. I knew, in that moment, that I had found **the one**. While I had liked a few of the maidens who'd vied for my attention before well enough, there was something about Tathardis that surpassed them all. That is why I married her."

Legolas nodded slowly.

"So, when the right one does come along, I'll know? But I don't even know if I want that right now! I know as the royal heir I am expected to have children but…"

The uncertainty and hesitation in his son's voice spoke straight to Thranduil's paternal heart. With a sad sigh, the king placed a gentle hand on Legolas's shoulder.

"You are yet young Legolas, very young. I did not marry my queen until I was many thousands of years older than you currently are. It's true that by elven standards I did marry late, but I hadn't found the right one before. Tathardis was younger than I, though still older than the typical age when elves do marry. I do not want you to feel that you have to marry to please me, son. While I would love a grandchild, I don't want you to do anything you are not ready for. And if you are never ready, that is fine too. Though if you ever take over the throne you will need an heir; but, Valar willing, that will never happen."

Legolas looked horrified.

"I certainly hope not. I _**do not**_ want to be a king. Ever."

Thranduil chuckled.

"I once thought the same. Tis not so bad once you get used to it."

Legolas shook his head.

"It's not that. It's just if I become king that means that something has happened to you."

Thranduil quickly realised what his son was implying, and sighed.

"That is, unfortunately, most likely true. While I have no intentions of that ever happening, we need to be prepared in case it does. That is the price we pay for being royals with all the privileges the title affords us. It is often steep."

Legolas dropped his head and shuffled his feet.

"Yeh, it is. But how do I tell Aeweth that I'm not interested?"

"Use confidence, but be kind. It's not her fault, just as it is not yours. These things will happen son, and you can't run away from them. As tempting as that can be. The sooner you do it; the better things will be. If I were you, I would make a point of talking to her at some point tonight."

Legolas sighed.

"Okay, I will. I am tired of hiding in fear that it may be her whenever I hear someone coming towards me. My behaviour lately has been very childish, hasn't it?"

The prince looked very sheepish and more than a little embarrassed. Thranduil smiled as he gave Legolas's shoulder a quick squeeze before removing his hand.

"A little, but this is how we learn things. You are still young, Legolas, and have much learning to do regarding the ways of the world."

"Now, I have a rare afternoon off, and wish to spend it with you. What would you like to do?"

Legolas's face immediately lit up.

"Would you spar with me Ada? We haven't spared together for over six hundred years."

Thranduil looked thoughtful.

"I could certainly use an opportunity to sharpen my sword skills, and I would like to see how good you are with your knives. Yes, I would like that. If you are finished with your shooting, let's go get our weapons."

* * *

 _Aeweth – little bird: A Silvan elf, slightly older than Legolas. Servant in Thranduil's palace._

* * *

 **So, it turns out I can't write a sword fight to save my life. Believe me, I tried for several days to write Thranduil's and Legolas's spar on-screen, but it did not work. So, apologies to everyone who wanted Legolas and Thranduil sparring. It's not going to happen in this story.**

* * *

 **Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought of this chapter! And keep your ideas for scenarios you'd like to see coming, I still have room in this story for a couple more ideas before we reach the War of the Ring.**


	13. Meeting Mithrandir-part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thankyou as always to my reviewers!**

 **Ne'ith5, Hawaiichick, CoffeeRanger, Dola and aficionada-de-libros.**

 **IMPORTANT: Now, another quick question for my loyal readers. When I am finished this story, I am contemplating writing another one called 'The Foundling Prince-Outtakes'. In it I would post scenes that didn't make it into the main story, as well as different funny scenarios that just did not fit. If anyone would like to read a story like that, please let me know and I will do my best to deliver it. I'll only do it if enough people want it however, as it basically needs to be written from scratch.**

 **Just a quick reminder, Mithrandir is what the elves call Gandalf. I read a ton of wiki entries on Gandalf in preparation for writing this chapter, so I hope that all the facts line up more-or-less with what happens in canon.** **The last thing I want is an OOC Gandalf. *shudders***

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Meeting Mithrandir-part 1**

 _Legolas meets Mithrandir for the first time. The seeds for a great friendship are sown. We are roughly in line with canonical timelines here, and it is c. TA 1000. Legolas is just under 1000 years old._

The Istari known as Mithrandir among the elves eyed the unfriendly woods around him with suspicion. He didn't know how the wood elves could bear to live in this dank dark place, and not only live but manage to thrive as well by all accounts. It said a lot for the stubbornness and determination of the Silvan elves, and that of their Sindar-born king and the other elves under his command.

Thinking of Thranduil made Mithrandir frown slightly. Though he had never met the Elvenking, the stories he had heard surrounding him and his actions were enough to make him slightly nervous. The King of the Woodland Realm was a formidable force by all accounts, and quick to punish any who insulted or angered him. His son, it was said, had a much milder temperament; and Mithrandir was very much looking forward to meeting him. He'd heard a bit about the young elven prince from Lord Elrond during his stay in Imladris. Though Elrond hadn't seen the prince since he'd been an elfling, there was something in the way he'd spoken about Thranduil's son that made Mithrandir want to meet the young elf. Enough to brave the dark forest and King Thranduil's potential wrath.

Mithrandir just hoped he wouldn't be thrown in the palace dungeons like he'd heard others had been, and resolved to be very careful in all he said and did.

A slight rustling to his right had the wizard tensing and tightening his grip on his staff. Who knew what manner of fowl creatures had moved into these gloomy woods since the darkness had started to cover them. Mithrandir knew there was a great evil stirring and slowly encroaching on the lands, that was the reason the Valar had sent him and the other wizards to Middle Earth. He hadn't seen much evidence of it in the places he'd visited so far, but Mirkwood was different. There was a tangible evil presence here that made even the Wizard feel uneasy.

Another rustle was the only warning Mithrandir got before there was an ear-splitting scream and something large and furry leapt on top of him, knocking his staff from his hand and bringing him to the ground. Not knowing what had just happened, the wizard instinctively lashed out at his attacker. It didn't seem to have any effect, and a sudden searing pain in his lower leg made the Istari cry out as his leg rapidly went numb and the rest of his body started to lose feeling. Poison! He thought grimly. Whatever these creatures were, they had just poisoned him. This was not good, not good as all. He needed to get out of here but how?...

 _Thwump!_

The creature standing over Mithrandir suddenly screamed as an arrow appeared in one of its eyes, before its legs crumbled. It landed on top of the Istari and knocked the breath out of him, even as its remaining eyes staring at its former victim unseeingly.

It was dead. Mithrandir had no more time to process that fact, because it was at that precise moment that the area around him erupted into chaos.

As the screams of more enraged beings filled the air, the wizard became aware of the steady _thwump_ of many arrows being fired. Swivelling his eyes around as moving his head seemed like too great an effort right now, the Istari saw a slim lithe figure with long blond hair leap out of a tree. The figure landed on the back of one of these creatures, plunging a long white knife into its head as he did so. As the creature crumbled beneath him, the elf (Mithrandir was sure his mysterious saviour was an elf) leapt off its back and turned a neat somersault in mid-air before landing on his feet on the ground. Spinning around on the balls of his feet, sure-footed as a cat, a bow seemed to just appear in the elf's hands. In less than a second he had released an arrow at another monster in the same fluid motion he'd used to do everything so far. When the enemy closed in around him again, the elf switched back to using the knives. Swiftly, he glided forward towards the creatures, literally carved a path through those things as he danced through their midst. His feet did not even seem to touch the ground as monsters fell dead around him. As he watched the elf fight whatever these things were in fascination, Mithrandir became aware that the sounds of fighting surrounded them. It seemed that the friendlier woodland inhabitants had found him.

The poison he'd been injected with had obviously affected his thought process, as at some point Mithrandir became aware that the weight of the dead monster on top of him had been removed. He then registered that his head and shoulders were being gently cradled in someone's lap. Looking up, Mithrandir was met with the sight of concerned bright blue eyes, long golden-blond hair that was braided back to keep it out of the face, and delicately pointed ears. Yes, the woodland elves had definitely found him, and just in time as well it would seem.

The elf was moving his lips, but Mithrandir could not hear what he was saying. It seemed that all his senses were shutting down on him, and it was all he could do not to let his eyes close and give into the pull of unconsciousness. He started slightly when a veil of some foul smelling liquid was held to his lips, but quickly realised that it must be the antidote to whatever poison that thing had injected him with. The elves would hardly save his life from whatever these things were only to then poison him. While the smell of the liquid was enough to turn anyone off, the wizard opened his mouth by sheer force of will and forced himself to swallow the stuff. It tasted even worse than it had smelt, if that were possible. The wizard felt himself gag as the concoction made its way down his throat and he tried not to cough. It was very effective however, and within a few minutes the Istari realised that feeling was returning to his limbs.

"…you feeling?"

Apparently his hearing was also returning. That was good.

Mithrandir managed to open his mouth again, but no words came out. The elf gave a small smile and shook his head.

"Don't try to talk yet, stranger, give the antidote some time to work properly. You should be fine, we've never had anyone react badly to the anti-venom, but it will take it a little while to work its way through your system and flush out the toxin. Spider-bites can be nasty, and you may have a headache and feel slightly weak for a few days, but it will eventually pass."

Spiders? Is that what those fowl creatures had been? Since when did the forests of Middle Earth play host to overgrown arachnids? Mithrandir also noted that the elf was speaking Westron to him. While he obviously understood the language, the words sounding slightly odd coming off his tongue, like he was not used to speaking the tongue of man. Mithrandir realised he likely did not know that the Istari was fluent in both Sindarin and Quenya. He was also fluent in most of the other tongues of Middle Earth, whether they belonged to man, elf or dwarf. As Mithrandir was thinking these things, a different voice, soft yet commanding with a slight musical lilt to it, spoke in Sindarin.

"Captain! All the spiders have either been killed or have fled the area. The others are gathering up their bodies to be burnt as we speak. When that is done, what are your orders?"

The golden-blond haired elf who'd rescued him looked up at the dark-blond haired elf who had spoken. He continued to cradle Mithrandir's head in his lap as feeling slowly returned to the wizard's body, even as he replied to his friend in the same language.

"We need to get our visitor to the palace, so once the spider bodies are taken care of and he is able to walk we will all head back there. Thankfully, we are only a couple of hours away. He seems to have reacted well to the antidote, but I want the healers to do an examination."

The dark-blond haired elf frowned.

"The King will not be pleased."

The golden-haired elf sighed.

"I don't care. He needs to be checked out by a professional. You never know just how anyone will react to that venom or even to the antidote, especially if they've never experienced either of them before. We aren't even sure that we've got the antidote right just yet. We've lose others who have taken it before. Plus, humans are even less predictable when it comes to physical reactions."

There was a slight hint of worry evidence in the golden-blond elf's voice when he said those words, and Mithrandir realised that his rescuer thought he was a man. He did look like an old man, that was true, but that was where the resemblance ended. Mithrandir was an Istari, one of the Maiar, sent to Middle Earth by the Valar themselves to provide aid to all the free races in the dark days that were to come. Though it seemed that those dark days had already descended on this part of the world.

Sometime later, he had enough feeling back to attempt to sit up. After a couple of tries he did manage to do it, even though he was supported the entire way by the elf and leant back on him once they were done. Like all his kind, he was surprisingly strong for his slim build. Once he was vertical, Mithrandir smiled and nodded at his rescuer.

"Thankyou. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."

The elf grimaced slightly.

"We do what we can, but too often it is not enough. Too many have been lost to both the spiders and the orcs that now roam freely beneath these trees and pollute our lands. We fight them and try to hold them back, that is true, but I'm afraid we are slowly but surely losing that battle."

The deep sadness in the elf's eyes when he said those words struck a chord with the Istari. Looking closer, he realised that this elf was very young by the standards of his kind, surely not much more than 800 summers could have passed for him. Yet, he was a seasoned warrior and Captain already it would seem. Mithrandir did not know much about the Woodland Realm or its inhabitants, but he was beginning to realise that their lives were very different to those of their kin living in the other Elven Realms he'd visited.

"Anyway, those are our problems, not yours. If I may ask, what is an elderly man such as yourself doing alone in these woods? It is very dangerous to wander out here, especially when you don't even have a sword to defend yourself with."

Mithrandir was saved from replying by the timely arrival of the dark-blond haired warrior from earlier.

"My Lord, we are ready to go when you are."

My Lord? Mithrandir internally frowned. The golden-haired elf was a lord as well as a captain? Beside him, the elf in question sighed softly.

"How many times have I told you not to address me that way, Tirnel? When we are out here, I am just like any of you, save that I am a Captain. But yes, I think that we are ready to go. Can you stand?"

This last sentence was said in Westron and addressed to Mithrandir. The feeling had come back into his limbs while they were waiting, and he almost felt back to normal, and so he nodded firmly.

"Yes, I think I can. I don't know how successful walking will be though, I might need a hand with that. And I need my staff. I'm not leaving without it. That spider knocked it clean out of my grasp."

He spoke in Sindarin, and the two elves eyes widened as they looked at him. It was the darker-haired one, Tirnel, who spoke.

"You know fluent Sindarin? But how?"

Mithrandir smiled.

"I have travelled much and seen many things in my life. I'm also fluent in Quenya if it interests you."

The golden-blond haired elf blinked.

"Even I'm not fluent in Quenya. I know a few healing spells but that is about it. Who are you, that you know the tongues of the elves fluently?"

"My name is Mithrandir, and I am but a humble traveller in these lands."

Tirnel was muttering to himself 'Mithrandir, Mithrandir, now where have I heard that name?' but his companion recognised the name immediately and rounded on the wizard with a gasp.

"You are the Grey Pilgrim, also known as Gandalf the Grey by some of the races of men, the last of the wizards sent to our shores by the Valar to aid us in stopping the growing darkness."

The shock on both elves faces was almost comical, but Mithrandir felt very uncomfortable when both elves then proceeded to drop to their knees in front of him. Looking towards the trees, he realised that the rest of the patrol had finished dealing with the spider corpses and had witnessed the whole scene. Now they too were kneeling to him. Not sure what to do, Mithrandir reached out and gently grasped the golden-blond haired elf's shoulders, urging him to stand. The rest of the elves followed the actions of their Captain, and once they were back on their feet, the Istari addressed them all. Though he did not know if they all understood him, as he'd heard that the wood elves had their own dialect of Sindarin that they spoke. A dialect that he was not familiar with. Still, hopefully they'd understand enough.

"I must admit, I did not expect this type of reception from the Woodland Realm, and you greatly flatter me with your actions. However, I was not sent here to be worshipped and held in awe. I am but a humble servant of the Valar, sent to help, guide and protect all the free inhabitants of Middle Earth. Just like you, my goal is to defeat the darkness and free the world from evil by doing whatever I have to. This is my mission here; the reason I was sent. Now, if I may, I would like to know your name, Captain."

The golden-haired elf looked up at him, revealing those startlingly bright blue eyes.

"Legolas, my name is Legolas."

Mithrandir's own eyes widened.

"Legolas? As in the Crown Prince Legolas, Son of King Thranduil?"

The elf nodded.

"The same."

Mithrandir smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my prince. I have heard much about you from the esteemed Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

The elf prince grimaced.

"All of it is good I hope? I haven't seen Elrond since I was an elfling, surely he can't hold that against me?"

Mithrandir smiled in amusement at the slightly distressed look on Legolas's face. Whatever had happened to do with Elrond when the boy had been an elfling that had him worried lest the wizard hear of it?

"I assure you my prince, he spoke about you in glowing terms. It was clear that he respects both you and your father greatly, though he doesn't say that much. Now, if you will be so kind as to get me my staff, I'm not sure that leaning down is a great idea for me right now, we can be on our way."

Legolas nodded and exchanged a few words in a dialect that Mithrandir could not immediately understand, but realised must be the Silvan tongue, to a pair of elves standing nearby. With twin nods they moved off to search the area where the wizard had fallen. Returning a few minutes later with the aforementioned staff, an extremely pretty dark-brown haired she-elf handed it to the wizard, who smiled and nodded in thanks before clasping it with both hands. That done, the elves and wizard began a slow trek through the woods. Mithrandir was still feeling the after effects of the spider venom and the elves seemed in no hurry.

As he walked along, leaning rather heavily on Legolas who supported him without complaint, the two talked quietly. Mithrandir was disturbed to learn that evil was so strongly present in these woods, in spite of the wood elves tireless work to try and hold it back. But there was ultimately little they could do against such great evil, and even their King was all but powerless in its face. The pain in Legolas's eyes, and the worry lines on his face when he said this, made Mithrandir's heart go out to him. Elves were supposed to be creatures of light and joy, and it was clear that these warriors had seen too little of both in their relatively short lives. Still, in spite of that, their attitude to life made Mithrandir, with all his years and wisdom, feel humbled. These seasoned warriors, many of whom were still so young by elven standards, had known true hardship and yet continued to press on, even when all seemed hopeless. They found joy where they could, and stoically accepted that which they could not change.

Legolas's cheerful voice interrupted the wizard's dark thoughts.

"I can't wait to see my father's expression when he sees what I've found this time. Or Lagoron's for that matter, it's always fun to pick on him, he gives the best reactions. They are almost as good as Galion's, but I've been forbidden from picking on him on pain of spending unspecified amounts of time in the dungeons on rations of dry bread and water. Apparently, I was affecting his mental well-being."

That got the wizard thinking.

"Legolas, I do not mean to be rude, but I've heard many stories about your father. Some of them are…worrisome. I was wondering how best to avoid being tossed into his dungeons myself. Can you give me some advice?"

The prince laughed, his voice sounding like a stream rippling gently over stones on a sunny day, before he sobered. Though there was still hints of a grin on his face when he spoke.

"I can imagine the sort of things you've heard. Just don't insult him, me, his people, his kingdom, or anything else to do with the Woodland Realm. Answer his questions honestly, and be polite. He's not that bad really, but he has got a nasty temper when needed and being King is not an easy job."

"On that note, we have arrived. Welcome, Mithrandir, to the Palace of the Elven King of the Woodland Realm."

* * *

 _Tirnel – stargazer: A close friend of Legolas's, though he is a fair bit older. He is a Sindar elf and warrior of the woodland realm._

* * *

 **Reviews are loved and treasured! Next chapter, Thranduil meets Mithrandir! And we get proof that Legolas is still an elfling at heart. And has aim that no one else in the kingdom can ever hope to rival, let alone match.**


	14. Meeting Mithrandir-part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

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 _ **CoffeeRanger: I have responded to your review at the end of this chapter.**_

 **Also, I have posted another question for story ideas from my loyal reviewers at the end of this chapter.**

 **Now, let's bring on the meeting we've all being waiting for! I hope I did it justice.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Meeting Mithrandir-part 2**

 _Mithrandir meets Thranduil for the first time. And vice-versa. And then we have Legolas._

As he was led over a narrow yet intricate bridge carved out of solid stone and through huge ornamental stone doors built directly into the side of a mountain, Mithrandir found his breath stolen away at the sheer beauty of it all. Legolas was quick to notice this, and laughed softly at the wizard's reaction to his home.

"It's a bit more accommodating than the forest outside, isn't it?"

Mithrandir nodded silently in agreement, and could only gape once they were inside as he took in the beautifully carved stone archways, stairways, pillars and paths that composed Thranduil's underground palace. He had never seen workmanship so fine and delicate, even among the dwarfs. He marvelled at the many hours of painstaking work that must have gone into creating every single pillar and path. Beside him, Legolas smiled as if sensing his thoughts.

"This palace was built long before my time. Ada was still considered a young elf when his father first commissioned it. Initially, it was only intended to be a place of refuge in bad times, and not to be lived in full-time. All the elves lived out in settlements in the forest then, back when Oropher and Ada first arrived in the place called Greenwood. I am told that it took half a nation of elves over three hundred years to create what you see here today, as they just kept adding to it. But come, Mithrandir. Once the healers have declared you healthy and you have had some time to freshen up, I know the King will want to meet you. I'm sure someone has already let him know that you are here."

* * *

Thranduil sat pensively on his throne as he debated how to best greet the wizard, Mithrandir. Did he stay on his throne and talk down to him? No, the King quickly decided, that was not the right way to do it. He only gave that treatment to people who annoyed him, and Mithrandir had not done that just yet. And hopefully wouldn't annoy him anytime soon. In fact, if he was anything like the other wizard who'd taken up residence in the forest not long ago, Thranduil would welcome him to his realm. Radagast minded his own business, and attended to the health of the forest animals and plants. He generally kept out of the wood elves way, and was polite and courteous when their paths did cross. He would occasionally help them out when he could, before disappearing back into the forest and not being seen for ages.

Yes, Radagast was no trouble at all to have around, and he was an Istari like Mithrandir. Though the latter was said to be more powerful. The Elvenking finally decided that the best way to greet someone as powerful and respected as the second wizard was face-to-face. Which meant he had to go down the steps of his throne. Internally groaning, Thranduil silently questioned why Oropher had seen the need to create a throne such as this. Sure, it was impressive, and gave him a commanding view of the room and a great position of power, but going up and down the stairs tended to wreak havoc on the Elvenking's elaborate robes. Then again, his father had never been one for what he deemed to be 'flagrant displays of questionable fashion' preferring a much simpler style of clothing than the one his son had adopted.

Thranduil managed to descend the stairs without incident, and was every inch the stern Elvenking his reputation demanded by the time Legolas escorted the wizard into the throne room. Legolas bowed briefly to his father before leaving them alone, though the look on his face clearly said he would like to stay and watch the encounter. Thranduil would not be surprised if he was waiting just out of sight to find out what happened, but knew he would never catch Legolas doing that. He had too much curiosity for his own good, and far too good at staying hidden.

Thranduil scrutinised Mithrandir carefully as the wizard approached him, and was rather surprised by what he saw. The Elvenking immediately understood why he was called the Grey Pilgrim. Everything about him, from his hat, long hair and beard to his threadbare robes, was grey in colour. Seriously, there was so much grey and it made Thranduil internally wince. He liked his colour. This wizard was also a fair bit taller than Radagast was, and seemed to have more confidence. Thranduil noted these small differences between the two wizards that he'd met, even as he spoke.

"Mithrandir of the Maia, it is an honour to make your acquaintance."

Thranduil inclined his head briefly in greeting and respect. He wasn't sure how the wizard would respond to that, and so had no idea what to expect in return. Radagast had been slightly clueless about things, but respectful enough when Thranduil had met him, even bowing briefly. In spite of this, the second Istari's actions still managed to surprise the king.

"Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, the honour is all mine. As you are not doubt aware, I have been sent here by the Valar to aid in the fight against the growing darkness. However, upon my arrival I can see that you and your people have already been fighting it for a very long time. For that, I highly respect you all. Before we go any further, I wish you to know that I will aid you in whatever way I am able in this fight."

Thranduil blinked at the wizard's sincere words before his mouth dropped open slightly at the wizard's next actions. The Maia bowed deeply to the Elvenking, from the waist, moving his right hand across his chest as he did so in the typical elven sign of respect. Fortunately, by the time he straightened up, Thranduil had his reactions under control. However, his icy grey-blue eyes were definitely warmer than they had been before, and when he spoke his voice was not as harsh as normal, but soft and almost pleasant to the ear.

"Mithrandir, I thank you greatly for your kind words. It seems too often we are overlooked and belittled by those who should know better, simply because we do not have noble bloodlines or are not deemed as wise as others. You are welcome here whenever you wish. I would caution you to stick to the paths next time you come however; your chances of being attacked by hostiles will significantly decrease if you do. We patrol them regularly and clear out any orcs or spiders that we find lurking nearby."

"No offence your majesty, but I did not see any paths where I was, and I did look. I did not see a path until after your son and his patrol rescued me and brought me back here. And we had to walk a fair way to get to the path to begin with."

Thranduil frowned.

"Then you must have been deep in a part of the forest we haven't tackled yet. You are fortunate that spiders were the only thing you had to contend with. There are all manner of fowl creatures lurking beneath the bows of the shadow trees the further you go south. I don't know how Radagast isn't bothered by it."

Mithrandir shrugged.

"That's just what he is like. Things like that never seem to bother him. _I_ learnt that lesson the hard way, however. Though, thanks to your son and his patrol, I will live to remember for next time. He is a fine lad; you must be very proud of him."

Thranduil's expression softened further as he thought of his son.

"He is indeed, and I am more proud of him then you would ever know. He is the light of my life, and the jewel of my people. With the exception of a few, everyone loves him. Yet, in spite of everything, he is one of the humblest elves that I have ever known in my life. And I've been alive for a fair while."

Yes, Mithrandir thought, Legolas was humble. He'd noticed _that_ out in the forest when the Crown Prince had knelt down to him without hesitation when he'd learnt who the stranger he'd rescued from spiders was. It was obvious from what Mithrandir had witnessed that the prince possessed great humility, and genuinely cared about those around him. The wizard had only been in the so-called Mirkwood for a relatively short period of time. However, he was already beginning to see what had impressed Lord Elrond so much about the woodland elf prince.

Legolas was someone very special. The wizard had felt it.

"Humility is an asset my King, and I wish that more possessed it than what do. Sadly, I have not met many in my own long life who share my views."

Thranduil raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"I see, and yes, I agree that humility is not a bad thing in the right proportions. Legolas is just too humble for his own good. A crown prince does not need to be that humble."

Not like his father, Mithrandir thought with some amusement, even as he kept any of that amusement from showing on his face. Thranduil might recognise humility, but he certainly didn't appear to practice it. Then again, he had a very difficult job. Someone had to keep the elves of the Woodland Realm united, and make sure they had the skills to continue to fight the growing evil.

"He is yet young, my King. Give him time, and he may surprise us all. I sense a greatness about him that I have not encountered in many that I have met before."

Thranduil scowled, but Mithrandir could tell it was not meant directly for him.

"That is what Elrond told me years ago. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it any better now. Those Noldor elves need to stop meddling in the affairs of others."

Mithrandir kept a neutral expression.

"I do not possess the insight that Lord Elrond does, but something tells me that there is more to Legolas than meets the eye. There is no escaping destiny my King, no matter what you do. If the Valar decide that they will do something, then they do it. All of us, even me, are subject to their wills."

Thranduil's scowl was now firmly planted on his face, and the wizard wondered if he'd stepped out of line. He really didn't want to end up in the dungeons. Then Thranduil suddenly sighed and seemed to shrink in size as he allowed his weariness and worry to show for a split-second, before locking it away and becoming the stern leader again. But that split-second had been enough to show the wizard the burden the elf was suffering under, and he decided then and there that he would help the Elvenking in whatever way he could. Elves should not have to suffer as much sadness and hardship as these ones were.

"I know that, but that does not mean that I have to accept it. Anyway, what will be will be. I can't change the future. All I can do is make sure my son and my people are prepared to face whatever may come to pass. Now come Mithrandir. You must be hungry and tired after your, _adventure_ , in the forest. Let us go to my private study and talk more about these matters there after you have had a good meal. The wine is particularly good this time of year."

Mithrandir smiled, hiding his relief at the Elvenking's acceptance of him with difficulty as he gave another small bow.

"I would be honoured. Lead the way, my Lord."

* * *

 _A few days later._

Legolas swung his legs gently as he sat high in the bows of a huge oak tree that grew within the protected palace grounds, and let the branches ruffle his long hair. This tree was very ancient, old enough that it remembered a time long ago when the Silvan elves had first come to this place and made it their home. It had told Legolas many stories of those days during the many hours the prince had spent in its branches over the centuries, and he had never tired of listening to it speak. Legolas knew that at least one of his birth parents had to have been a Silvan elf, or part Silvan, for him to be able to talk to trees like he could. However, Legolas never gave the circumstances of his birth much thought, and by extension didn't dwell on who his parents might have been. Thranduil was his father in every way that mattered, and no son could ask for a better one.

Thanks to the tree warning him, Legolas was aware of Mithrandir wandering around seemingly aimlessly in the gardens well before he was within hearing or seeing range of the elf. Not that Legolas wanted to avoid the wizard. They might have only met for the first time a few short days ago, but Legolas had instantly known that Mithrandir was a friend and ally. Somebody who could be trusted, no matter what happened. And everyone knew just how precious trust was in these troubled times.

Still, it amused the prince to spy on people without them knowing he was there. It was especially fun toying with visitors, who had generally heard outlandish stories of the wood elves and their king, and were already slightly uneasy of their surroundings.

Seeing a young acorn growing not far from where he was sitting gave Legolas an idea. After asking the tree for permission and receiving it, the wood elf gathered a few small acorns and settled into a position where he couldn't be easily seen if the wizard looked up, smiling in thanks to the tree when it shifted its branches around to better hide him. Now, all he had to do was wait for the Istari to pass underneath and he could have some fun.

* * *

Mithrandir was deep in thought from his latest meeting with Thranduil as he wandered around in the guarded part of the Woodland Realm. He was starting to understand why the Valar had been so insistent that _he_ come to Middle Earth…

 _Plop!_

The wizard actually jumped as something small landed neatly on the very tip of his hat, and bounced off to roll to a stop at his feet. Looking down at the small acorn sitting there innocently, Mithrandir raised an eyebrow. That acorn was too fresh and young to have fallen off the tree by itself.

Looking up into the trees branches, Mithrandir almost coped an acorn in the eye and leapt back with a muttered curse as the second acorn rolled gently along the ground before coming to rest next to the first. There was definitely something odd going on here, acorns should _not_ be falling off a tree like this.

Carefully protecting his face with his hat, Mithrandir peered up into the trees branches again, trying to discern if someone was hiding there and pelting him with acorns. However, the deep green leaves were very thick, and the branches seemed to be constantly moving around, effectively hiding anyone sitting up there from the sight of the wizard. It wasn't until another small acorn _pinged_ off the rim of his hat, narrowly avoiding hitting his nose and causing him to briefly go cross-eyed, that Mithrandir's patience was rewarded. Concentrating on the tree as hard as he was meant he saw a brief flash of movement high up in the trees bows, seconds before the acorn almost hit him. After this acorn in question had rolled to a stop next to the previous two, Mithrandir was sure he heard a muffled giggle floating down on the breeze. Wood elves, he thought, or rather, _one_ wood elf. From what he'd heard since entering the realm, the wizard had a fairly good idea exactly which elf was game enough to use him for target practice.

It was with this thought the wizard turned back to the tree and opened his mouth.

"Leg…"

He got no further. Right at that moment, a fourth acorn sailed down and landed neatly in his open mouth. The wizard was so thrown, that for a moment all he could do was stand there, holding the acorn in his mouth with a stunned expression on his face. The sight was apparently too much for the young wood elf who was teasing him. Peel after peel of a silvery laughter floated down to where the wizard stood at the base of the tree. Sighing softly, Mithrandir removed the acorn from his mouth and gave it an annoyed look before casting it aside to join the other three, temporarily ignoring the full out laughter that greeted his actions.

Looking up into the tree again, this time careful to keep his mouth closed, Mithrandir soon spotted the green-and-brown clad, golden-blond haired elf who was rolling around on the branch laughing, and rolled his eyes at the elf's childish behaviour.

"Prince Legolas Thranduilion, what do you think you are doing? Come down here this instant!"

The laughter did not cease, even as the prince began slowly making his way down the trunk of the ancient tree. At first the wizard worried he would fall, he was still laughing so hard. However, the wizard quickly realising that the tree was deliberately placing its branches in such a way as to ensure that did not happen. That's right, he'd forgotten that the Silvan elves could communicate with trees and actually have conversations with them. And he'd heard that Thranduil's son was part Silvan as his queen had been one of them. Once the prince was only a few feet above the ground, he let go of the branch he was holding and dropped, landing lightly on the ground with a grin still plastered firmly on his face. A grin that only widened before suddenly turning very innocent when he saw the wizards annoyed expression.

"You called for me, sir?"

The innocent expression the elf was now wearing would have fooled no one. It was simply _too_ innocent to be believable. Even if Mithrandir hadn't witnessed the prince's previous antics with his own eyes.

"Yes, I did. What on earth do you think you are doing Thranduilion? Does your father know that you are out here, pelting your guest with acorns?"

The young elf's expression was completely guileless, even as he raised a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

"I'm doing what now? My good sir, I am deeply offended that you would think me capable of teasing the Great and Mighty Mithrandir. Trees drop leaves and acorns all the time, it must have just been bad luck that they happened to hit you in the face. Three times."

Mithrandir glared at the elf with a very disdainful expression and saw the young one manage to just suppress his laughter, though his lips turned up slightly. To the wood elf's credit, he kept a straight face for a surprisingly long time before it became too much and he dissolved into laughter. Rolling around on the ground and holding his sides he laughed until his ribs hurt.

At the sight of the hysterical elf Mithrandir had to smile, in spite of his slightly wounded pride. It was refreshing to see the young one enjoying himself. Everything had been very gloomy and grim ever since he'd stepped into the Woodland Realm. Not that the elves in Rivendell and Lothlórien weren't serious, they were, but in a different way to the wood elves and their king. The other elves were serious because they _felt_ they had to be; the wood elves were serious because they _had_ to be. Especially Thranduil, who was clearly operating under enormous stress. How they did it, Mithrandir did not know. But his admiration for the wood elves was rising the longer he spent in their realm.

Though it had gone down somewhat for the now hiccupping crown prince lying weakly on the ground in front of him.

"Legolas Thranduilion, care to explain what was going through your head while you were up there?"

The prince shook his head as he slowly sat up.

"Not really."

Mithrandir sighed.

"Thranduilion, what does the king do with you?"

Legolas had the grace to look sheepish as he slowly got to his feet.

"I'm not normally caught in the act, so I actually don't know what he would do if he knew. Or maybe he does know, and finds it funny. You can never tell with him."

There was an awkward moment when neither prince nor wizard was quite sure what to do next. Finally, it was Legolas who broke the silence.

"You won't tell him, will you? It was just in fun, I swear. I didn't mean anything by it."

Mithrandir smiled slightly at the worried face of the prince. He knew it had all been in good fun, and was in fact rather impressed with the prince's remarkable aim. Even when hidden in the trees and not having a clear line of sight to his target, the prince still displayed better aim than any other elf Mithrandir had ever met.

"I won't tell him, so long as you promise never to pelt me with acorns again."

Legolas sighed in relief.

"All right. I promise not to do that to you ever again if you don't tell my father."

Mithrandir nodded and smiled.

"Very well. However, I will congratulate you on your excellent aim. To land that last acorn in my mouth was a remarkable feat."

Legolas's face turned a shade of light pink at the praise as he struggled to find something to say. In that moment, he looked even younger than he had previously.

"Um, thank you?"

"You are welcome, young Thranduilion."

"Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Legolas."

The wizard nodded as they began walking along together.

"I know, and it suits you. I could honestly not see you hidden in all those green leaves; it was like you were one of them. A Legolas Greenleaf. Hmmm. Maybe I'll call you that from now on."

The prince stopped walking and frowned in confusion.

"But my name literally means 'greenleaf'. Why would you call me Greenleaf Greenleaf? It makes no sense."

Mithrandir looked thoughtful.

"In Sindarin is certainly does sound odd, but not if it is spoken in Westron. It never hurts to have more than one name or identity, especially if you ever travel anywhere unfriendly and want to keep your real identity a secret. For example, I am known as Mithrandir among the elves, but the races of men all know me as Gandalf. Two different names for two different parts of the same identity."

Legolas was still frowning.

"But why would I ever need to keep my identity a secret? And why would I use a different form of my first name as a last one? I understand what you are saying Mithrandir, but I'm afraid you are not making a lot of sense."

The wizard just nodded.

"I know I am probably not making sense to you now, but one day you will understand, my prince. You are yet young, even for an elf, while I am almost as old as the Valar. I have seen much, Legolas Greenleaf, and am doubtlessly set to see much more before my job here is done."

The prince sighed in resignation.

"I suppose that you are not going to stop calling me that anytime soon, are you? Could you please just not do it in front of anyone? I'll never live it down if you do."

Mithrandir decided he'd teased the young wood elf enough for now, and took pity on him.

"Okay, I will not mention it in front of the other elves. It will be our secret, as the name Legolas Greenleaf really does suit you."

Legolas nodded in relief.

"Okay. I can live with that. It's still weird though."

"What's weird, _ion nîn_?" (my son)

Legolas groaned as his father suddenly appeared in front of them, looking as immaculate as always. He also looked very curious, but was wearing an expression that said he'd heard at least part of the conversation, and was highly amused.

Great.

Legolas groaned even louder as he buried his face in his hands.

He was _never_ going to live this down now.

He just hoped Tirnel never found out.

* * *

 **He, he, Poor Legolas...**

 **But seriously, what is up with having two names that mean exactly the same thing? Seeing as in the movies Gandalf even calls him Legolas Greenleaf, I decided there must be some inside joke there. The last part of this chapter was my attempt to explain that.**

 **Also, before anyone asks, just as Gandalf does not know the elves of Mirkwood, so Thranduil does not know him. He knows and likes Radagast, who is no trouble at all. Therefore, Thranduil has no idea how much of a headache Gandalf will turn out to be, and so welcomes him. He will regret it one day.**

 **QUESTION: On that note, I have another question for my readers. What type of mischief would you like to see Gandalf leading Legolas into? I can't promise there will be much in this story, but when I write the outtakes it might be fun to see what they get up to that causes Thranduil to have such a low opinion of Mithrandir later on. Ideas? I personally would love him to be thrown in the dungeons, but am not sure how to make it legitimate and believable! Please review and let me know your thoughts.**

* * *

 _CoffeeRanger: Thankyou for your kind words! I am happy that you enjoyed the last chapter so much. It just didn't make sense for Gandalf to know everything about everyone, he might be powerful and a wizard but come on! He doesn't just know everything, as is even evident in the books when he didn't know the password required to enter Moria._

 _Radagast is mentioned in this chapter, but he probably won't be appearing in person as I don't think I could do his character justice. I just don't know enough about him. Perhaps he'll appear in the outtakes one day. I really don't know._

 _See note above. Thranduil is unaware of how annoying Gandalf is. He will eventually find out however *grins*_

 _Aragorn will be mentioned, but at this point I have no plans for him to appear, either as Estel or Elessar. I don't know how they most likely met, and would rather let people image the situation how they want to._


	15. The growing darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Finally, everything is coming together for tomorrow's uni events that I am running. I thought things would never happen, but at the eleventh hour everything was suddenly organised. In celebration, here's another chapter! Only a day later than what I'd planned, but I had no time yesterday to post it.**

 **A HUGE thank you to all who reviewed this story since last chapter. aficionada-de-libros, AHealingRenaissance, KuruLith04, Hawaiichick, Dola, Ne-ith5, wenduo, CoffeeRanger and SilverOnlyReads! And an extra special thank you to those new readers who reviewed earlier chapters as well!** **The Foundling Prince now has over 100 reviews, and I am over the moon! For that reason, this chapter is dedicated to everyone who has reviewed any chapter, as without the encouragement and support you have shown I may not have gotten past posting chapter 2.**

 **NOTE: For clarity as some got confused last chapter, Gandalf does not know about Legolas being both adopted and Thranduil's true son. He knows Tathardis was killed, but thinks that her son survived the attack. He does not know that Legolas was killed, then reborn and sent back by the Valar. So he believes Legolas is Thranduil's son, but does not know Thranduil does not know that Legolas truly is his son. Gandalf has no clue of the events surrounding Legolas's birth/rebirth however you want to describe it. For the record, NO ONE on Middle Earth knows the truth. A hand-full know Legolas was adopted, and Galadriel** _ **suspects**_ **the truth, but no one knows for certain. I hope that all makes sense.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: The growing darkness**

 _Mithrandir intervenes on Thranduil's request. Yes, you heard that correctly. Thranduil actually asks the meddling Wizard for help._

Legolas was tired as he rode his horse towards the palace at a walk, and the rest of his patrol weren't in much better shape. They'd spent the last couple of weeks patrolling the outer borders of the woodland realm, hence why they were on horseback instead of running through the treetops. In spite of the inhospitable forest, there were still clear paths on the ground that one could follow, they were just very well hidden. And the area they had been in was far enough away that riding as close as they could get was the most logical thing to do. They hadn't taken the horses right to the edge of the elven boundary; they'd left them at a secure outpost some distance within the elven realm for the time they'd been out on the outer borders.

While out there, they had cleared out countless colonies of spiders that were trying to invade the elves land, as well as disposing of any orc patrols that happened to cross their path as they fought to keep their borders secure. To Legolas, it seemed that they'd done nothing but kill evil creatures for at least the last century. He was rapidly growing weary of the constant violence that increasingly dominated his life. He knew that the elves in the other realms didn't have it as hard as they did, and while he had no wish to live in Rivendell or Lothlórien, he couldn't help but feel some resentment towards their inhabitants. Actually, he felt resentment for pretty much everything these days. In fact, Legolas couldn't remember the last time he'd been truly happy and at peace. It had to have been a few centuries ago.

As the weary patrol started up the path that led directly to the palace gates, Legolas became aware of someone singing somewhere in front of them. He instinctively knew it wasn't an elf, even though the words were spoken in their language. But his senses weren't telling him it was an enemy either, quite the opposite in fact. After telling the rest of the patrol to continue to the palace at walking pace, Legolas urged his horse into a trot. As they were nearly home, the leg weary animal responded willingly. As they rounded the bend in the path just before the bridge, Legolas saw his guess had been right.

"Mithrandir!"

Upon seeing the wizard standing there, leaning on his staff with an impassive expression on his face, Legolas felt lighter than he had in ages. Peering up at the elf prince from under the brim of his huge grey hat as the horse stopped in front of him, the wizard smiled.

"Legolas! It is truly good to see you again my friend. Though you don't seem to be very happy. What is it that has you so troubled, my prince?"

Legolas just shook his head as he dismounted to talk to the wizard.

"I am fine, Mithrandir, or I will be as soon as I've had something to eat and a proper night's rest. We've been patrolling the southern borders for the past weeks, and the constant fighting against the orcs and spiders has drained us all I'm afraid. My patrol is following me, and they are just as weary. We will be fine. All we need is a good night's rest."

Oh my dear prince, Mithrandir thought, noting the dark circles under Legolas's eyes and the fact he'd lost a considerable amount of weight since his last visit almost forty years ago, you need much more than one night's rest. You need a century of rest, but I know none of you can afford that luxury. You, your father, and your people constantly wage an endless war, and it is taking a toll on all of you. But it is you that I worry for my young prince, for you take far too much of the burden of responsibility onto your shoulders. Elves are not meant to carry so much weight in their souls, and it will eventually destroy you. Your father knows this as well, which is why he summoned me here. He loves you very much my dear Legolas, but is at a loss at how to help you. At the moment I am as well, but I will come up with something my prince. I promise.

Of course, Legolas had no idea of the thoughts that were going through the wizard's head as they stood there, waiting for the rest of the patrol to catch up. Legolas absentmindedly stroked the nose of his brown mare, who whickered softly and blew at his face, causing a small smile to flicker there, for a brief moment distracting Mithrandir from his tired expression. Like all elves, Legolas had a special connection with nature, and all animals loved him. The trees also loved him, and his ability to communicate personally with them was evidence of his Silvan elf blood, though other elves could sometimes sense their feelings. Regardless of blood, any elf's relationship with nature as a whole was a stunningly beautiful thing to behold if ever you had the privilege. But, right now, with his slightly sunken dull-blue eyes and too-hollow cheeks, the elf prince did not make a very stunning picture.

He looks like a ghost, Mithrandir thought with dismay. His body is still here, but it is like his spirit and enthusiasm for life is gone. He is just struggling to get through each day with whatever energy he has left, as he all but fades into a shadow of himself. I see now why Thranduil is so worried about him. I've never seen an elf look so run down.

The wizard's musings were cut short by the arrival of the rest of the patrol. Looking them over quickly, Mithrandir noted they all looked tired, but none had the bone-deep weariness that was evident in the prince. As soon as his patrol appeared however, Legolas seemed to gather what little strength he had left. He addressed them with only a hint of weariness in his voice and posture that could easily be attributed to having spent time out on patrol. Legolas really did have excellent acting skills.

"Okay everyone, let's go home. Mithrandir, I'll walk in with you. Everyone else, you go on ahead. Tirnel, can you take my horse and see to her? I must get Mithrandir settled, and then make my report to the King."

The dark-blond haired warrior who Mithrandir knew was Legolas's preferred second-in-command nodded, and the whole column of riders clattered across the bridge and into the palace grounds. Legolas and Mithrandir followed more slowly. The wizard sighed as he regarded Legolas.

"You didn't have to walk with me, it doesn't take a wizard to see that you are very tired. You could have gone on ahead with your patrol. It wouldn't have taken me long to catch up."

Legolas just shrugged his too-thin shoulders.

"I don't mind walking, and it gives me an opportunity to spend some time with you. We haven't seen each other in far too long. How go things in other parts of the world?"

* * *

The weariness that Mithrandir had observed in the Woodland Prince seemed to also extend into his father, although he did not look as emancipated nor as exhausted as the prince did. Times were indeed bad in the woodland kingdom, Mithrandir realised with some alarm, far worse than what they'd been forty years ago. Just as Thranduil and his folk were isolated from the rest of the world, the rest of Middle Earth was also isolated from them. As a result, Mithrandir had had no idea of how hard times were becoming. It worried him somewhat that darkness could take hold of a place so thoroughly, and yet remain all but completely hidden from him. Mithrandir made up his mind to go and see Radagast at some point, and find out what the brown wizard had to say about the sorry state of the forests. After all, he lived in them, and these changes could not have escaped his notice.

All these things had the grey wizard very concerned.

The King was obviously also concerned, but primarily for a different reason. Thranduil's love and deep concern for his son's wellbeing was evident every time he looked at him, throughout the wizards welcome meal and afterwards. And he looked at Legolas very often indeed, Mithrandir noticed. But Thranduil didn't say anything to the wizard about the reasons he'd sent that urgent message requesting his aid until after Legolas had retired to his own room for the night. He didn't drop his strong and confident façade until they were finally alone in an outer room of Thranduil's royal suite. Then, and only then when there was no one else around to witness it, did the proud and strong Elvenking of the Woodland Realm allow his emotions to show as he practically pleaded with the wizard for help.

"What do I do Mithrandir? For the first time in my life I feel that I am completely powerless to help my son, and it is driving me into despair. You saw him, you saw how thin he has become and how dull his eyes are. I've tried everything I can think of that might help him, potions, spells, plenty of rest and a whole host of other things, but nothing seems to be making any difference. And before you ask, he knows there is something wrong with him. He tries to ignore it and stay strong for the sake of our people, but it is slowly eating away at him. It is almost like his spirit has faded but everything else has remained. I don't understand it."

"Mithrandir, I know that you are counted among the wisest beings there are. I plead with you to use your wisdom and heal my only living son!"

Mithrandir did not notice Thranduil's unintentional use of the words 'only living son', as he was too busy trying not to go into shock at the sight before him. He had not known until that moment that Thranduil was capable of showing such strong emotions, even as the Elvenking practically wept in front of him as he pleaded for aid in helping his family. The wizard realised with growing horror that the darkness was indeed affecting all the woodland elves, and even Thranduil was not immune to its power. He was managing to handle it, and was staying strong and not letting go of his spirit no matter what happened. Legolas, for whatever reason, hadn't been so fortunate.

Mithrandir gently placed one of his hands over the Elvenking's where it lay limply on the table in between them.

"Thranduil, look at me. I would rather say these next words to your face, not the top of your head."

Once he had managed to get the king's full attention, the wizard spoke gently.

"For what I've seen so far it seems to me that the darkness has been so strong and prevailed here for so long that it has succeeded in all but smothering Legolas's light spirit. I believe that his physical ailments are a result of this. If we are to help him physically, then we must first heal his spirit. That is not going to happen here, nor indeed anywhere that has even a hint of darkness or evil."

Thranduil was following the conversation closely, and frowned deeply when he heard those words.

"But darkness spreads over the whole land as we speak, this I know. Don't look so shocked Mithrandir. I might not venture out of these woods very often, but I am far from unaware of what goes on in the wider world. There is hardly one place, apart from the ring protected Elven realms, where the darkness is not present ins some form. And surely you do not mean for me to send him to Rivendell! That would be a very bad idea. He does not fit in with the Noldor elves at all and I am not sending him there. Elrond might be fairly open-minded about things for a Noldor elf, but Legolas does not need the prejudice so many others hold towards wood elves while he is in such a vulnerable state. I am also not ready to let him sail west, and I doubt that he would consent to even considering doing that. He loves it too much here. There is no way he would consider leaving his home, so long as it is still here."

Mithrandir smiled slightly.

"No, I wasn't thinking of sending him to Rivendell, or having him sail. I was actually thinking of Lothlórien."

Now it was Thranduil's turn to stare at the wizard in shock.

"You are serious? I have avoided that place for over three thousand years, and Legolas has never even seen it! I don't get on so well with the Lothlórien elves, even though Celeborn is my cousin and many others are my distant relatives. And you think that sending Legolas there in his current state is a good idea?"

"Yes, I do. And for one very simple reason. Galadriel."

All Thranduil could do was stare at the wizard with his mouth gaping open. He had no idea what to say or how to respond to that. Silently congratulating himself for rendering the last Elvenking ruling in Middle Earth speechless, the Maia spoke slowly.

"Yes, Galadriel is one of the few elves who may be able to help heal Legolas's wounded and much damaged spirit. And she is the kindest and most compassionate elf that I have ever met, either here or in Valinor. I am aware that you and her don't have the best relationship, but she would not hold that disagreement against your son. Especially as he needs her aid. It is not in her nature. The Lothlórien elves take their cues from Galadriel, and so I know that they would also accept Legolas without question. I don't know how long he would have to stay there, that would depend on how long it takes his spirit to heal and him to return to his full physical strength. Just think on it my King. If you decide to say yes, then know that I will accompany the prince there to see that no harm comes to him on the way. I will also stay there until he settles in. Sleep on it, Thranduil. I will not force you to make a decision, but it may be the only way to help your son."

With that, Mithrandir slipped quietly out of Thranduil's suite and headed to his own room. He had been given a comfortable guest room located in a corridor not far from the royal wing where Thranduil and Legolas had their residential suites. He understood Thranduil's hesitation and shock, truly he did, but it was the only thing the wizard could think of that would have a chance of helping Legolas. Lothlórien was a place of light and beauty and peace, the essential elements required for elves to thrive. It was the complete opposite of Mirkwood in that regard, and would stay that way so long as Galadriel had Nenya to help protect the realm. And as long as the One Ring remained lost.

Mithrandir sighed unhappily at that thought. He had an uneasy feeling that the tentative peace that Middle Earth currently enjoyed was not going to last for much longer. He feared that, way before any of them were remotely ready for it, they would be at war.

* * *

 **Thranduil will literally do anything for Legolas, including putting aside old grievances and his own stubborn pride. In my opinion, that shows the true love a father has for his son.**

 **And I am aware that in canon Legolas had never been to Lothlórien before the fellowship arrived there, but this is an AU that mostly follows canon. I am allowed to take some liberties.**

 **Please review and let me know your thoughts!**


	16. The Golden Woods

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Hallo all, I am finally back with another chapter! Sorry it took a few days, but I have been very busy dealing with that nasty thing called Real Life recently.**

 **Thank you reviewers of this story since last chapter! AHealingRenaissance, SilverOnlyReads, Dola, Hawaiichick, CoffeeRanger, aficionada-de-libros, and wenduo. I horde and gloat over every review like Smaug hordes and gloats over his gold.**

 **CoffeeRanger: I have answered your review at the end of this chapter.**

 **Also, for the record, I have no idea how long it would take to travel from Thranduil's fortress to Lothlórien. I made it up off the top of my head. If anyone knows approximately how much time it would actually take, please let me know and I will change it.**

 **Enjoy reading about how our beloved Legolas met Galadriel for the first time!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: The Golden Woods**

 _Legolas arrives in Lothlórien. He is about 1300-1400 years old._

The woodland elf prince and the grey wizard rode through the outskirts of the Golden Woods in companionable silence. They had been traveling for almost two weeks now, taking the long way around the Western part of Mirkwood to avoid having to come close to the dark fortress of Dol Goldur, especially as it was currently occupied by a dark being that Legolas said was known as the Necromancer. That bit of information, told to the wizard so casually by the young elf, worried him more than he cared to admit. Mithrandir made up his mind to investigate the matter further at a later date. Right now, his mission was to escort Legolas safely to Lothlórien and Galadriel.

The prince had initially been reluctant to leave the Woodland Realm and journey to Lothlórien. He'd tried arguing with Thranduil that he was needed in Mirkwood to fight the growing darkness. But the King had made up his mind by that point, and there was nothing the prince could say that would have changed it. Legolas would go to Galadriel's realm, whether he wanted to or not. And he would stay there until his spirit was healed and his body had recovered its former strength. He was not to worry about Thranduil or anyone else, and was to concentrate all his energies into healing. That way, when he came back he would be strong and able to fight the darkness once more. In the end, Legolas had given in to please his father.

As they entered the outer borders of the Golden Woods, Mithrandir noticed with no small amount of relief that Legolas's face held an expression of pure wonder and joy at the beauty and tranquillity of everything around them. While he was still too thin and his shoulders seemed to droop under the weight of an invisible load, his tired blue eyes seemed to lighten as they gazed around him. It seemed that, just being in a place where no darkness was present, for even a few minutes, was enough to perk the prince up.

Legolas was so absorbed in taking in his surroundings that he failed to notice they were no longer alone until he practically rode his horse into a Lothlórien warrior, who leapt out of the way just in time. Horrified by what had happened, Legolas was quick to apologize.

"I am so sorry that I didn't see you, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The tall blond-haired warrior shook his head and smiled gently at the visibly troubled prince.

"Nay, my prince. I am fine, and I can't fault you for admiring our woods. They are truly a thing of beauty, no matter what time of year it is."

Legolas nodded in agreement, before a thought occurred to him.

"How do you know I am a prince?"

The warrior smiled again.

"The Lady of the Light knows; it was she who sent us to come meet you and guide you in. Welcome to the Golden Wood, Legolas son of Thranduil, and welcome back Mithrandir of the Maia. I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlórien, and these are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin. You won't need your horses from here, it isn't far. So, if you would like to dismount, we will look after them for you. Now, if you would just follow me please."

Mithrandir followed Legolas as they were led through the trees by the three warriors. Legolas did not say much, instead opting to look around them and drink in the sight of the light forest. That is, until something Haldir said caught his attention.

Legolas looked stunned as he abruptly stopped, causing the wizard to almost run into his back, and stared at the Marchwarden.

"You speak the Silvan dialect of Sindarin? But how?"

The light-blond haired elf smiled at him.

"I speak it because it is my native tongue. I am a Silvan by birth."

Legolas blinked.

"I see."

He then went on to speak in the Silvan language, which the wizard still did not understand much of. However, Mithrandir did not mind, and was pleased to note that the three Silvan warriors really warmed up to Legolas after that. Before much time had passed, Legolas was talking to them all in the Silvan dialect and seemed at ease with them already, in spite of the fact they'd met for the first time less than an hour ago. Wood elves were peculiar like that, the wizard mused. Their blunt mannerisms took some getting used to, but their easy acceptance of others, so long as they weren't a threat, showed their deep love for all living things. However, that could change in a second, and a previously friendly wood elf could become a fierce and deadly warrior in less time than it took to blink. Mithrandir thought of the Noldor saying that the wood elves were 'less noble and wise, and more dangerous' and, though it was a rather crude way of putting it, he agreed with their assessment. He didn't see it as a bad thing however. Often, especially in these troubled times, being more dangerous and less wise was an advantage. At least you would be able to defend yourself should the need arise.

As they went deeper into the Lothlórien woods, Mithrandir felt tension he hadn't realized he was carrying melt away. Legolas had since fallen silent; the wizard could not even hear him breathing. He was so enchanted by the woods around him, that it seemed that he was almost afraid to keep walking in the presence of such peace and goodness. Then his uneasiness seemed to suddenly melt away and his eyes took on a peace that Mithrandir had never seen in him before, but recognized all the same. The Lady of the Light was speaking to him.

Seconds later, Mithrandir felt her in his mind as well, welcoming him warmly. Yet, he also felt her concern for the worn-down and weary young wood elf he escorted. Legolas was a strong elf, there was no doubt about that. Yet Mithrandir worried that, one day, his harsh life would prove to be too much for him to handle. The wizard hoped with all his heart that Galadriel would be able to help the prince, as he could not think of what else to do for him.

 _Don't fret_ , the voice in his head said with a small smile, _I will do what I can do to help him, but he is stronger than even you know, Mithrandir. Given time, I am sure he will be fine. In fact, I know he will be._

* * *

Legolas had never felt such peace in his whole life.

Sitting here on soft green grass under the bows of the beautiful trees of Lothlórien, the Mirkwood Prince closed his eyes and leant back against the tree's trunk as he basked in the presence of such light. He had been in the Realm for less than a day, and already his heart felt calmer and his sorrow not as heavy a burden to bear. His brief meeting with the Lady Galadriel when he'd first arrived was still forefront in his mind; and, in spite of her words telling him to rest for a while before they did anything, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what was wrong with him.

That was the main reason he'd agreed to come here. He knew his father was worried about him, and Legolas couldn't blame him. _He_ was worried about _himself_ ; an elf should not feel this way. Though he tried to hide his weariness from others, it was becoming harder and harder to put up a strong front. But he had no choice but to persevere. The warriors and the woodland people as a whole were looking to both him and the King for leadership and help in these troubled times, and they could not afford to show weakness nor despair. Now, however, safe in the beautiful Realm of the Golden Woods, Legolas tried to allow the tension that had been building for centuries to melt away. He had limited success.

Finally giving it up as a lost cause, Legolas sighed as he leant forward and wrapped his arms around his drawn-up knees, resting his head on top of them and closing his eyes. His long hair was hanging loose and he was barefoot, clad in only a plain green tunic and his usual dark brown leggings. His simple attire made him uncomfortably aware that all the elves he'd seen here so far had been clad in beautiful robes of a light coloured material. He didn't normally care what others thought of him, but something about the elves in these woods made Legolas feel almost ashamed of his plain dark-coloured clothes and hardened demeanour. On top of that, they all had been so full of light and happiness, which had reminded Legolas all too much of his own sorrow and darkness.

Legolas was so wrapped up in these thoughts that it took him a long time to realise that he was no longer alone. Opening his eyes slowly, Legolas tensed as he glanced up to see who was watching him, only to be confronted with wise blue eyes as the Lady Galadriel herself smiled gently down at him.

"May I join you, young one? I wish very much that we might talk."

* * *

Galadriel sat quietly beneath the trees and observed the young woodland prince, taking in his too-thin body and sad eyes. She could sense the weariness and sorrow that he carried deep within him, and the sheer depths of it brought a physical ache to her own heart. She didn't think she had ever seen such weariness and sorrow in an elf who was not physically fading, and he was still so young as well. He was not yet 1500 years old, but had experienced more hardships and fought more battles against evil than many elves who were more than twice his age had.

Mithrandir had been right in wanting to send the prince here for healing, as the core of the issue was with his spirit and mind. His current physical condition was a side effect of these things. Galadriel knew the prince was also aware of this fact, but he did not know what to do about it. For that reason, he had tried to ignore it for as long as he could.

But he did not need to ignore it any longer.

"My prince, I sense that you are carrying a great burden within yourself, a burden of weariness, sorrow and anguish. Will you tell me what it is that weakens your spirit and makes you fade in all but body?"

The prince lifted his head from his knees for the second time and straightened his legs out in front of him as he looked at her, even as he was careful not to look directly into her eyes.

"Is that what I'm experiencing, a form of fading? But why? What could have caused this to happen? It's not like I'm about to give up."

Galadriel nodded.

"I can see that, however, you are fading, it's just not the sort that affects most elves. With fading, normally an elves spirit, their fae, gradually weakens, followed closely by their body fading away until they are but a shadow of their former selves. With you, it has happened differently. Your body is as strong as ever, it has had to be, but your fae has gone through a form of fading that is exclusive of the body. You can't fade completely as you have too much to live for, but you can lose the joy and wonder you once had at life, and turn into a shell of your former self. I feel that is what has happened to you."

A variety of emotions flickered over Legolas's face when he heard that, and Galadriel gave him time to process the information she'd just given him. Finally, he spoke softly.

"So I'm experiencing a form of elven grief, in a way? But why?"

Galadriel shook her head.

"I do not know why, young one, but I can hazard a guess. You love your home, the shadowy forests now known as Mirkwood, deeply. The fact that it is being overrun with darkness and evil grieves you, especially as you and your people fight so hard to hold the darkness at bay. But, no matter how hard you fight, you are slowly failing. With each new spider colony or orc pack that crosses your borders and harassed your settlements, your sorrow for your home grows. Yet, at the same time, your love for it, your father, and your people keeps you fighting with everything you have. Even as your joy and enthusiasm for life slowly fades."

Legolas frowned slightly as he listened to her words, and Galadriel was quick to notice.

"What is wrong, my woodland prince? Tell me what troubles you, for I may be able to help ease your burden. That is why your father sent you here."

"If my love for home has caused this, then why am I the only one affected so severely? None of the other warriors have problems laughing at jokes, feasting after a victory, or talking with their families and friends when they are not on duty. Why I am so different?"

Galadriel shook her head.

"I do not know the answer to that, young one, and am not game to even hazard a guess as to why that may be. It might be your mixed blood. Or there could be other factors at work, seeing the other Sindar elves in your father's Realm have not been affected like you have, and neither have the Silvan's. My foresight has not provided me with an answer to that particular question, so I simply do not know, my prince."

There was silence in the glade for a while, eventually broken by Legolas.

"My Lady, seeing you have foresight and are regarded as the wisest elf on Middle Earth, do you perhaps know something about where I came from? Ada told me that you are aware of the circumstances surrounding my birth. And I would like to know _something_ , _anything_ , about those events. I couldn't have just appeared in the woods that day by magic, could I?"

Galadriel sighed softly.

"It is not entirely impossible, young one. There are some great forces at work in this world, both good ones and evil ones, but I cannot say anything for certain during these troubled times. Though I have had visions of your future, I have never received any clear images from your past before Thranduil adopted you. It is almost like your fae did not even exist before Thranduil named you as his son."

"How can that be possible? I obviously existed before then!"

Galadriel nodded gravely.

"Yes, you did, but for some reason that part of your life is almost completely hidden from me and my sight. But don't be discouraged from knowing this Legolas son of Thranduil, for you are very special. In more ways than you realise. You are here with us for a reason, and one day it will become clear to you what that reason is."

Legolas gave her a look that was almost identical to the one Oropher had often worn. It was those eyes, Galadriel quickly realised with a slight start, he had Oropher's eyes. In that moment, she understood perfectly why Thranduil had fallen in love with the boy the first time he'd laid eyes on him. If she hadn't known the truth, she would have readily believed that Legolas was Thranduil's true son. The resemblance to the royal line of Oropher was astounding. Then again, there was a good chance that he was actually related to both those elves.

What Galadriel had said was at least partially true; she did not know for sure where Legolas had come from. But what she hadn't said was that she had had confusing visions of several puzzling events surrounding his past. While she wasn't sure exactly what they meant, she had seen enough to have her suspicions that the Valar had been heavily involved in the whole incident. She suspected that it had been no accident that Thranduil had found Legolas out in the woods that day, but that it had been carefully planned. For what reason, she did not know.

"You've had visions about my future? Do we eventually defeat the evil in Mirkwood?"

Galadriel sighed as she turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand and looked at the wood elf with kind eyes.

"I have had visions of the future, yes, but I do not know what the ultimate result will be regarding the darkness that spreads over all lands. In all my visions however, you are a very important part of the fight against the darkness."

"Great." Legolas sighed heavily and rested his back against the tree trunk again as he closed his eyes in defeat. "That's just great. Good to know I'll be fighting the darkness for a while longer."

Galadriel did not know what else she could say or do that would help or even comfort the young elf right now. When she'd found him he'd seemed fairly relaxed, but as they'd talked he'd withdrawn into himself, and the Lady was certain he was unaware that he was even doing it. The growing darkness and his inability to stop it from slowly devouring his homeland had worn away at him slowly but steadily for centuries. It would take more than one day to heal the damage that had been done.

Hearing Galadriel shift her position slightly, the prince opened his eyes and nodded at her.

"Thank you my Lady, for your counsel. However, if you will excuse me, I wish to sleep now, and I do not wish to trouble you anymore."

 _Oh Legolas_ , Galadriel thought sadly, _you are not a burden and I have no intentions of leaving you just yet. Not when you are still so sad and depressed. Even if I did leave, just knowing about your current state of mind would prevent me doing anything else. I understand that time in Mirkwood is treated differently to how it is here, but I am not leaving you alone tonight, my prince._

"You are no trouble Legolas, and if it meets with your approval, I would like to stay out here with you. It is a beautiful night, and I see that you have already decided to sleep out here rather than in the room that was assigned to you. That is fine if you wish to do that" Galadriel was quick to assure the prince when he started guiltily, "I often sleep out here myself if I am particularly troubled about something. I wager you have not being able to sleep outside without fearing an attack by enemies for a long time."

Legolas sighed as he sat up straight again, pushing his long hair out of his face as he moved.

"You are right. It isn't even safe to sleep in the trees anymore, as the spiders move through them almost as well as they move on the ground. Even though we take it in turns to watch while out on patrols, there is no chance to really rest there either. There may be an attack at any moment, and you have to be ready for it. It will be nice to be able to sleep on grass under trees with no fear of being attacked by enemies."

Galadriel said nothing, there was really nothing she could say to that, so she just settled into a more comfortable position with her back against a tree root and her head resting on a patch of soft moss. Legolas curled up on the ground next to her. Not close enough that they were touching, but close enough that all he had to do was reach out his hand and they would touch. Galadriel quickly recognised the prince's actions for what they were. He wanted comfort and companionship from another elf, but didn't want to ask her outright for that comfort for whatever reason. Sighing softly Galadriel simply pulled the prince closer, running a gentle hand through his soft and silky blond hair. At first he started, but soon relaxed as she continued to run her fingers across his scalp, carefully avoiding touching his ears. At the same time, he edged slowly closer to her until his head was right next to her upper leg. Once the prince was comfortable he relaxed completely, allowing her to continue to run her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes.

That was a good sign, Galadriel thought. It meant he felt safe enough here to allow himself to enter the deep, healing, yet sometimes almost death-like slumber that all elves were capable of, but rarely needed to use. Knowing that the wood elf would have trouble reaching that level of peace on his own, Galadriel started singing softly. Legolas murmured something indecipherable before relaxing even further as the soft song overtook his senses and called him into a deep and healing sleep. Even when she knew he was no longer conscious of her actions, Galadriel continued to sing softly for hours as she gently stroked his hair. She enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of the woods at night, and did not mind staying with the troubled prince to ensure he was able to get the rest he desperately needed.

And that was how Celeborn found them many hours later when he came looking for his wife. Galadriel looked up at him and, smiled reassuring when she saw the concerned look on his face as he regarded the young wood elf who was still fast asleep. The top of Legolas's golden head still rested against her leg, and his eyes were closed, a peaceful expression making him look almost impossibly young. _He is fine_ , she silently communicated with her husband, _he is just exhausted, and hadn't rested properly for quiet possibly centuries_. Nodding in understanding, Celeborn left them and slipped quietly away. Looking down at a still sleeping Legolas, Galadriel smiled softly as she continued to run her hand through his hair.

It would take time and much patience to heal the woodland prince's much damaged spirit, but he _would_ eventually be fine.

She would make sure of that.

* * *

 ***author sighs in happiness and drowns in feels at that mental image***

* * *

 **So, Galadriel suspects the truth about Legolas and his parentage. However, she is the only one who has an inkling of what really happened. On a side note,** **what did everyone think of Galadriel's and Legolas's first meeting? Please review and let me know!**

 **Also, the next few chapters are not finished yet, and so there may be a slight delay in posting them. Hopefully, it won't be more than a few days longer than normal, but I am not in control of plot bunnies and so I have no idea how long it will take.**

 **Next time, Legolas in Lothlórien! What will happen?**

* * *

 _CoffeeRanger: Sorry, I don't think the plot bunnies will ever allow you to kidnap my Legolas and Thranduil. They are very possessive and demanding._

 _The last chapter actually started out as my attempts to write Tauriel into the story, way back during the initial writing spree. But then plot bunnies got other ideas, and we ended up with a distraught Thranduil, a fading Legolas, and an intervening Gandalf. Story of my life really._

 _From the beginning, I really wanted Legolas to go to Lothlórien and meet Galadriel. However, with the not-so-good relationship that I've built up between her and Thranduil, something pretty big was going to have to happen to convince the king. Legolas fading and needing his mind healed turned out to be a practical solution to the problem._

 _I would like to send Legolas back to Rivendell, but have no idea how to do it. With the darkness rising in the world, Legolas is not going to leave his beloved woods of his own accord unless it is practically a life-or-death situation. And I can't see any way that Thranduil would send him there either. But I was able to send him to Galadriel, which I am pretty happy with._

 _And as for Thranduil and Celeborn being cousins...as far as I am aware, there is nothing in canon that says they are. But then, there is also nothing to suggest that they aren't somehow related. I think it even says somewhere in the books that Legolas is kin to the_ _Lothlórien elves, but don't quote me on that. But, basically,_ _I like the idea of them being cousins. It makes sense, as they are both Sindar elves who were born in and lived in Doriath before its fall. And the Sindar don't seem to be a huge group by any means, so most of them are likely related. By making them cousins, it also means that Legolas is distantly related to the twins and Arwen through Celebrian, which I also like the idea of. Even though it is not addressed in the story, I like the concept. It builds a backstory for the characters. I've done something similar for every single OC in this story. They all have distinct personalities, complex backstories, and unique quirks. You might not see these things on screen, but these thoughts are in my head while I'm writing and developing them._


	17. Legolas in Lothlórien

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.**

 **Thank you reviewers of last chapter. CoffeeRanger, Freeranger, Dola, SilverOnlyReads, Hawaiickick, AHealingRenaissance, aficionada-de-libros, and wenduo.**

 **I will get back to replying to those who were signed in within the next few days.**

 **Originally, the** **Lothlórien** **arch was going to end at the last chapter. However, due to people seeming to want more, I decided to continue it. This chapter and the next one are the result of that decision. I hope that you enjoy seeing what mischief Legolas got up to while healing in the Golden Woods.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Legolas in Lothlórien**

 _Three short stories of Legolas's time in the Golden Woods. In chronological order._

1# Pranks and paybacks.

Legolas sighed and closed his eyes as he lent back against the solid trunk of a tree near the water's edge. He'd been in Lothlórien for almost two weeks now, and was feeling better than he had in centuries. He had more energy, and did not feel as depressed as he had when he'd first arrived. As much as it loathed Legolas to admit it, some time away from the darkness that had overtaken Mirkwood _was_ doing him good.

During his first few days here, Legolas had quickly realised that the elves in this part of the world did not understand nor realise how dark the world was becoming beyond their borders. Due to the power of the Lady's elven ring, Lothlórien and its inhabitants were spared from the growing darkness. Legolas knew all about the rings of power and the story behind them. Thranduil had personally taught him their whole history, including explaining the reasons that they did not possess one, and why they did not want nor need a ring of power. Legolas had to agree that Oropher's logic did make sense. The thought of relying on a cursed (if the stories were to be believed) magical trinket to keep you safe rather than your own strength was a slightly terrifying one to the young wood elf. For this reason, Legolas couldn't resent these elves their security and peace while his own people were fighting daily for their very lives. That being said, even though thoughts of his beloved forest were never far from Legolas's mind, just having a break from being in the dark atmosphere of Mirkwood was a relief. That light, happy atmosphere in Lothlórien _was_ something Legolas was slightly envious of.

Thinking of his home made Legolas think of his father and friends who were still there. Mithrandir had left just that morning to go back to Mirkwood, and let Thranduil know how Legolas was going. He carried a letter from the prince which he'd promised to hand-deliver to the king. Legolas had written to his father about everything that had happened here so far, and had also assured the king that he was feeling much better. Legolas hoped that his words would sooth his father's anxiety about him. Legolas felt very sorry for Lagoron and Galion. Thranduil was undoubtedly being very hard to live with right now, what with his son being away in Lothlórien healing.

And Legolas was healing. Slowly, but surely, he was feeling a little bit better with every day that passed, a little less sad each time he woke up. Though he still had some ways to go before he was well enough to return home. He'd promised his father he would stay until Galadriel had deemed him fit again, and had no intentions of breaking his word.

No matter how much he wanted to go back home.

"Got you!"

Legolas opened his eyes and jerked upright just in time to meet a shower of water being hurled at him head on. Legolas spluttered as some of the liquid found its way into his lungs, and coughed wetly as he blinked the water out of his eyes and glared at the elf who'd ambushed him. Haldir grinned smugly at the wood elf prince from what he hoped was a safe distance away, even as he expected retaliation. In fact, he was counting on it.

"I can't believe that I managed to sneak up on you! I thought you had the hearing of an elf!"

Legolas glared.

"I do. I was just thinking of something else."

Like how he could let his senses wander here without fear of being killed or attacked if he didn't have his wits about him. Being attacked with water didn't count to someone who fought giant spiders that wanted to eat you on a regular basis.

Haldir cocked his head to one side and grinned.

"It must have been something interesting. Now boys!"

This time, Legolas had no chance to react as a shower of water rained down on him, completely soaking him from head to toe. Rubbing the water out of his eyes with a curse, Legolas glared at his newest attackers as they swung down from the tree branches. Rúmil and Orophin soon stood next to Haldir; all three brothers were laughing merrily at Legolas's discomfort.

Once he could see again, and had squeezed most of the water out of his hair, Legolas glared at them with blazing eyes. He had no idea how he would get them back for this humiliation, but he knew he had to have some sort of revenge. He couldn't let this go.

However, as soon as he made a move towards them, the brothers scattered and leapt up into the trees, vanishing without a leaving a trace. Legolas cursed loudly. Now what was he to do? There was no way he was letting those three get away with this.

As he stood there thinking, Legolas soon became aware of another elf approaching him. Legolas turned his head and watched the dark-haired male elf questioningly. Once he got closer, the elf winced in sympathy upon seeing the prince's drenched form.

"I gather Haldir and co. ambushed you with buckets of water?"

Legolas nodded as he tried to wring out his clothes, with limited success. He was absolutely soaked.

"Yes. But they will pay for it. Somehow."

The dark-haired elf grinned. After looking around for a moment, he calmly spoke in a conversational tone.

"Would you like some help to pay them back? They've done a similar thing to almost everyone at some point, including me. I know many who would love a chance for revenge."

Legolas felt a grin of his own forming, the first real one he'd felt for decades.

"Yes, definitely. Do you have a plan?"

The dark-haired elf nodded.

"Yes, we do. At least part of one. However, we could use your help."

Legolas's eyes widened. This should be fun.

"Count me in. What do you want me to do?"

The elf grinned back.

"Follow me, and I'll fill you in on The Plan so far. Oh, by the way, I am Ranor. You are Legolas, correct?"

The prince nodded.

"That's right."

"Elvenking Thranduil's son from Greenwood?"

Legolas nodded again.

"Yes."

Ranor looked thoughtful.

"I've never met him, but I know Thranduil is Sindar, kin to Lord Celeborn. Yet you identify as a Silvan elf and can talk to trees like we can. How?"

Legolas shrugged.

"My mother was Silvan. She passed a long time ago."

Ranor blinked a few times.

"I'm sorry."

Legolas shrugged again.

"I never knew her. And Thranduil has been the only parent I've needed. Now, how do you plan to pay Haldir and his brothers back?"

* * *

 _And the Golden Woods would forever remain traumatised from what followed._

 _NOTE: Legolas knows he was adopted, but chooses to let people believe that Thranduil and Tathardis are his real parents as it's easier. Which they are, just not in the way he thinks. They_ _ **will**_ _all find out the truth one day._

* * *

2# Archery skills.

After the 'incident' as it became known, the Galadhrim elves accepted Legolas as one of their own. With this full acceptance of him, the last of the prince's reservations about his differences to the other elves in Lothlórien were laid to rest. Galadriel had smiled to herself when that had happened, glad that Legolas had found his feet and was happy here. Though the sight of three naked elves (she had no idea how _that_ had happened, but highly suspected Celeborn had been involved in some way) being chased through the forest and into a mud pit that had mysteriously appeared overnight by extremely ferocious looking bees would be one she wouldn't forget in a hurry. Still, it had almost been worth it to see how much happier the woodland prince was these days.

Though she was not entirely sure that Haldir and his brothers would agree with her on that. Still, once they'd gotten over their embarrassment, they had shaken the whole thing off in good humour. They knew they'd deserved it, and had born no malice towards Legolas or anyone else for their humiliation. Since then, Mirkwood's Crown Prince had gone swimming and done patrol duties of the realms boundaries with the three warriors, and they were soon fast friends. Legolas had been here for more than a month now, and with every day that passed more colour returned to his cheeks and he seemed happier. He was also putting on weight, though he was still too thin, even for an elf. Still, it was a definite improvement, which made Galadriel glad.

Thranduil and her might disagree about many things, but they both had one thing in common. They genuinely cared about others. Though Thranduil would not openly admit it, his actions towards his people said otherwise. If you were an elf and you meant him, his family, and his people no harm, you had his unconditional protection.

And he obviously loved his son like no one else, and cared about him very deeply. Enough that he would set aside their age-old disagreements to seek help and healing for Legolas. Healing which Galadriel was happy to provide.

The Lady of the Light was wandering around the woods thinking of these things when she heard the sound of happy laughing, soon followed by Legolas's voice as he spoke to someone before laughing again.

Galadriel blinked.

The woodland prince was _laughing_?

That was something she would bet hadn't happened in many long years.

Following the sound, the Lady of Light soon arrived in a small clearing where a large number of elves were gathered. Seeing their Lady, the elves bowed their heads in respect and moved out of her way, allowing Galadriel to easily see what was happening.

The clearing boasted several archery targets, and not much else. Galadriel internally frowned when she noticed that, while many of the elves were holding their bows, none looked like they were about to shoot. Galadriel was about to ask a nearby warrior what was happening, when several thuds were heard. Looking around her with slight surprise, the lady noticed that three arrows had appeared in the bullseyes of three targets. Second later, more arrows followed them until all the targets in the clearing were studded with arrows. Looking up into the trees were the shots had come from, Galadriel's keen eyes could make out a slim blond-haired elf dressed in a muted green tunic and dark brown leggings swinging and twisting around branches and running along them whilst firing at the targets with deadly accuracy. In spite of the fact he didn't stop moving, not even to fire, not one arrow missed its mark.

Galadriel's eyebrow rose slightly, but that was the only sign she gave to show that she was impressed by what she saw. Legolas was very gifted with his aim, perhaps more so than any other elf, human or even dwarf Galadriel had ever known or heard about.

Eventually, the archer must have run out of arrows, as they ceased to be fired. Not long afterwards, Galadriel's suspicions were confirmed as Legolas jumped down from the low branches of a nearby tree with an empty quiver on his back. He landing lightly on his feet to the clapping and cheering of the elves. Smiling brightly, the prince gave a small bow to his audience, who clapped and cheered even louder in applause of the prince's skills. Smiling around at everyone, Legolas turned around and saw her.

For a brief moment, their eyes met. Galadriel felt her breath catch in her throat, even as Legolas shifted his feet slightly and looked like he wanted nothing more than to look away, but realised that it would be rude. This was actually the first time Legolas had looked her in the eye since he'd arrived. He'd managed to successfully avoid doing that so far. Galadriel was stunned by the weight of the emotion and maturity in his gaze, but also saddened by the uncertainty and insecurity evident in those blue orbs. For a brief moment, Legolas looked like he wanted to just disappear. But then Galadriel smiled at him kindly and started clapping. Unexpectedly, Legolas suddenly smiled back, the expression completely transforming his face as he bowed low to her.

It was then that Galadriel noticed Celeborn was also present. The Sindar elf smiled briefly at her as he detached himself from a group of elves and walked over to Legolas as the latter straightened up. Galadriel's husband spoke softly to his cousin before smiling and nodding at the targets. Legolas smiled back at him, and the two fair-haired elves started collecting the arrows, stewing them away in Legolas's quiver. Galadriel knew that Celeborn was enjoying spending time with his cousin, so she wasn't that surprised to find him out here. Him and Thranduil had been fairly close when they were young from what she could gather, and Celeborn was very happy for a chance to get to know Thranduil's son.

Realising the show was now over, the gathered elves started drifting slowly away. Soon, only Galadriel, Celeborn, Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, Ranor and Legolas remained standing in the clearing. It was then that Galadriel spoke to Legolas.

"You have a fine aim, my prince."

Legolas's face went red.

"It's the result of practice. Lots and lots of practice."

Ranor spoke up.

"Maybe so, but to be able to run around in the trees and still hit all those targets was incredible. I am an okay shot, but I could never do that."

Legolas actually laughed at that. It was a small one to be sure, but it warmed Galadriel's heart to hear the amusement in it.

"Believe me, this was easy. Those targets were stationary the whole time; I could have done it with my eyes closed. Spiders however, rarely stop moving unless they are dead. And they are generally not dead unless they have been killed. Which we tend to do with our bows and arrows while running through the treetops. So, yeh, I've had a lot of experience with running around in the trees shooting at moving targets that would like to eat me if they could. This was easy."

While it may sound like it to some, it was clear that the prince was not boasting as he told them about his skills. He was simply stating a fact. He did not see anything special about his aim; it was simply what it was. He had to keep his skills sharp and honed in order to survive, and so he did. The prince did not realise that no amount of practice alone could achieve the high level of perfection that natural talent could, and that his accuracy was possibly the highest of any being in Middle Earth.

Still, the casual way he spoke about the evil infesting his home made Galadriel very sad. The prince might be recovering his spirit and strength here in Lothlórien, but his home was still being overcome by darkness and evil. And there was nothing any of them could do to stop it. Even Mithrandir and Saruman were at a loss about what to do. And, as long as the one ring remained lost, there was no other known way of stopping this evil that they knew of.

Ranor was urging Legolas to teach him a few archery tricks, and finally the prince gave in to the warrior's pleading and agreed to show him a few things. Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin and Celeborn quickly became absorbed into the conversation upon hearing that, so Galadriel quietly slipped away and let them be.

There would be plenty of time to talk to Legolas later.

* * *

#3 Celeborn and Legolas

Legolas was sitting on a platform built high in the branches of a Mallorn tree, enjoying the peace and tranquillity around him. He had been in Lothlórien for almost two months now, and though he had enjoyed it, he couldn't wait to get home to Mirkwood and see everyone again. Especially Thranduil, whom he had missed greatly. Lothlórien was nice, but it was not home, and it could never _be_ home for the wood elf prince.

Mirkwood was his home. It was where he belonged, and he felt the most comfortable there among his and his father's people. While the Galadhrim elves had accepted him as one of their own, it just wasn't the same. Others might not understand how such a dark and dismal place could be considered home to an elf, but it was to Legolas.

And it wouldn't be long now before he was back there. Galadriel was very happy with how he was progressing. She'd told him just this morning that if he continued improving, he would be ready to go home in two or three more weeks' time.

And Legolas couldn't wait to go home. It felt like he'd been gone an age, not just a few months.

Yes, he was definitely looking forward to going home.

…

Celeborn smiled when he finally found his cousin sitting high up in the trees with his eyes closed and head tipped back, a peaceful expression on his face. Sensing Celeborn's arrival, Legolas opened his eyes and smiled at the older elf, who was slightly out of breath from the climb.

"Celeborn! What brings you up here? I thought you hated climbing at your age."

In truth, Celeborn was not as old as Thranduil. But, ever since he'd declined to participate in races through the treetops with Legolas, Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, Ranor and a whole host of other elves the previous week, Legolas had not stopped teasing him about his age. The prince's wicked sense of humour and teasing side had returned with his recovered spirit, and he was making good use of them. Celeborn did not mind the teasing. Legolas did not do it maliciously, and he actually enjoyed taunting the prince in return. Legolas could take it just as well as he could give it. Valar knew Celeborn had endured worse from Thranduil when they were young.

"Just because I am of a dignified age, does not mean I cannot climb a tree. I just choose not to."

Legolas grinned cheekily at him.

"That's because you are ancient. Like Ada, but he still climbs trees when he wants to."

Celeborn was well aware of Thranduil's tree climbing ability, and did not need to be reminded that his cousin was much better at it then he could ever hope to be. He still lived in dread that someday, someone would find out what had happened to him in Doriath all those ages ago. In spite of the fact no one but Thranduil had witnessed it and he'd been sworn to secrecy, Celeborn remembered falling out of the tree and landing on his back in the stream with startling clarity. Since then, Celeborn had tended to be very nice to all trees and not do anything stupid whilst he was in them. Legolas had no such qualms. He knew if he slipped the trees would catch him, but he also had no fear if he did fall. From what he'd seen of Thranduil's son so far, Celeborn was well aware that the elf was fearless, yet he was also sensible and did not take risks that could kill him. Thranduil had done a very good job of raising him and teaching him all he knew.

Especially without his wife being there to help him. Celeborn had liked the spirited Silvan elf maiden that Thranduil had eventually married, and hearing about her tragic death had shaken him. He'd joined in the grieving for her; some of her distant relatives live in Lothlórien and they had all mourned her passing together. It was a great miracle that her son had survived the tragedy, Celeborn thought. For once, the Valar had actually taken pity on the elves hardships.

Celeborn might have more faith in the Valar than Thranduil did, but he too possessed some of that sceptical nature that seemed to run through the bloodlines of the Sindar elves from Doriath. The scepticism that had been very strong in Oropher and was still strongly evident in his son. A scepticism which Legolas, with his mixed Silvan and Sindar blood, seemed to have mostly avoided. He was certainly more trusting and open-minded then his stubborn and hard-headed father had ever been.

"Might I remind you that I am actually Thranduil's younger? And age has no influence on what we decide to do."

Legolas's eyes danced with mirth as Celeborn realised that he'd contradicted himself, and desperately tried to salvage what was left of his dignity. What was it with Oropher's descendants that ensured they always got one up on him? Thranduil had been exactly the same, just not so kind about it.

"Well, age does not have _much_ of an influence on what we do. There are some things we chose not to do; like those crazy flips you are so fond of. And running through treetops."

Legolas was still openly smirking, but decided to take pity on his cousin and changed the conversation.

"What are you doing here anyway, Celeborn?"

The Sindar sat down next to Legolas and made himself comfortable before replying.

"I thought I'd come and chat. Seeing you will have gone home in a few weeks, I am running out of time to spent with you. Being around you reminds me of the good times I had with Thranduil. You are very much like him."

Legolas blinked.

"I am?"

Celeborn frowned himself at the surprised look on the younger elf's face. There was no reason that he was aware of for the prince to be that surprised to be told he was like Thranduil.

"Yes, you are. Why, does that surprise you?"

Legolas quickly shook his head.

"No, it doesn't surprise me. Well, actually, yes, it does; I do not think that I am like my father."

"It's little things you do that remind me of him when he was younger. You love to tease me like he always did; that elf was a terror when he was young. Did he ever tell you that Oropher once grounded him for five summers for putting dye in my shampoo just before an important feast-of-state? It took forever for the blue to come out, and was highly embarrassing in the meantime. I eventually got him back by stealing his favourite formal robe and dying it bright yellow. The screams when he found out were priceless, and things escalated from there. It was not long after that we were both forbidden to touch any form of dye on pain of spending the next decade under house arrest doing the most boring menial chores imaginable. Oropher and my own father were not amused with our antics."

Legolas's normally large eyes were even bigger as he listened to Celeborn's story.

"Ada really did that to you?"

Celeborn nodded and lent over to whisper in Legolas's ear, like he was telling the prince some great secret. Legolas subconsciously leant closer.

"Oh yes, he sure did. He loved to humiliate me in whatever way he could. Said I was too stuck-up and he was helping me to laugh and lighten up a little! Thankfully, he did stop embarrassing me so much after I met Galadriel."

Celeborn straightened up just as Legolas asked him a question.

"How did you meet the Lady? And why does Ada not like her? She has been nothing but kind to me. I don't understand."

Celeborn sighed.

"Who knows why Thranduil does anything? You, out of all elves, should know how unpredictable he loves to be. All I know is that, not long after we moved here from Lindon, Thranduil and her had some disagreement. I don't know what it was about. It might have had something to do with the fact Oropher did not like nor trust the Noldor elves because of their actions, or there may have been some other reason. What I do know is that after that, Thranduil stopped talking to her, and moved away to live in the Greenwood permanently. He hasn't been back here since. I visited him a few times during those early days, that's how I met Tathardis. But, as time went on, we slowly drifted further apart. I haven't seen him in a long time now."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully.

"No, he keeps to the woods now and never travels further than Laketown or Dale. He took me to Imladris when I was still an elfling, but that is the furthest he has ever travelled that I am aware of. I would like to go back there some day, but right now I am needed at home to fight the darkness. I can't abandon my people or my father when they need me."

Legolas sighed heavily as his shoulders slumped.

"I would love to travel the world, to see the Shire, Imladris, Rohan, Gondor and all the other places that Mithrandir tells me about. But that is not possible right now. Perhaps one day, if there is ever peace, I will be able to see the world without feeling guilty for leaving my home in peril."

Celeborn laid a gentle hand on his cousin's shoulder as he spoke softly.

"Do not give up on doing that Legolas. If that is what you truly want, then I'm sure one day it will happen. In the meantime, your loyalty to your home, your father and your people does you proud."

Legolas sighed again as he laid his hand over Celeborn's; his cousin's hand was still resting on his shoulder.

"I do what I have to do. Anyone else in my position would do the same."

 _Not necessarily_ , Celeborn thought to himself but did not say out loud. _You are extremely loyal Legolas, and it is sad that you are the only one who can't see that_. _You do both your father, grandfather, and the Sindar and Silvan elves proud_.

There was silence for a while before Celeborn spoke.

"They might, but it is still commendable either way. Now, I believe you were asking me before how Galadriel and I met?"

Legolas nodded eagerly, the previous conversation pushed to the back of his mind.

"Yes, how did it happen? Was it love at first sight?"

Celeborn chuckled.

"In a way, I suppose you could say it was…"

* * *

 **And so we leave Celeborn telling Legolas how he met his wife as they sit up in the trees of** **Lothlórien** **. Next chapter, Legolas returns home to Mirkwood. Due to popular request, there are hugs involved, so you don't want to miss it!**

 **Oh, and there are also orcs, because I've been too easy on Legolas lately. *grins***

 **Reviews are loved!**


	18. Return to Mirkwood

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Finally, after a month of waiting for Plot Bunnies to come back from holiday, we have the conclusion of the Legolas in** **Lothlórien arc!**

 **As I know you all want to read it asap, I have put the authors notes at the end of the chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Return to Mirkwood**

 _In which Legolas returns to Mirkwood from Lothlórien._

Legolas could barely keep his excitement in check as he made sure that his pack was secured onto the back of his horse. He had a good reason to be excited. Galadriel had finally deemed him well enough to go home. By the time he got back he would have been away for over three months, and Legolas had missed Mirkwood and his family greatly. He'd heard from his father once during that time. Mithrandir had stopped by and delivered the letter before taking off to who-knows-where like he had a habit of doing. Legolas had not heard anything from him since, but that was not unusual for the wizard. He could disappear for forty or fifty years before popping up out of the blue one day, meddling in someone's life, and then disappearing into the blue again.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Legolas gave his mare a pat on the neck and bade her to wait (she wore no bridle nor saddle; Legolas did not need those sort of trappings to control her). Legolas then around to face Galadriel and Celeborn, who had both come to see him off. Legolas said goodbye to Celeborn first, and had to endure a long hug as his cousin embraced him and tried to extract a promise out of Legolas to visit them again very soon. Legolas couldn't promise that; but he assured his cousin that, if it were possible, he would drop by if he happened to be in the area and had time. Once Celeborn released him, Legolas turned to face the Lady Galadriel and gave her a small bow.

"Thank you for helping me, my Lady. I feel better than I ever have, and I'm ready to go back to fighting for my people."

Galadriel smiled as she gently placed her hands on Legolas's shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead.

"You are very welcome for everything, my prince. I am glad that you are once again feeling well. Know that if you ever need another respite, you are always welcome here. As are any other elves in Mirkwood that may need sanctuary away from the darkness for a time. The Golden Woods are always open to any who need shelter and mean us no harm."

Legolas bowed his head in respect. He knew that would most likely never happen, especially if his father had a say in it, but did not want to insult Galadriel and her hospitality by saying so. Not after she'd been so kind to him these last few months.

"Thank you, my Lady. I will remember that. Now, if you would excuse me, I must return to my father and my people."

Galadriel nodded.

"Of course. Haldir, are you and the other warriors ready to escort Prince Legolas home?"

The Marchwarden nodded as he led his horse over to them. As Legolas had arrived on horseback, they'd decided to travel back the same way. Partially to take his horse back to Mirkwood, and partially because elves enjoyed riding. And Haldir had admitted to Legolas that the Galadhrim didn't get many opportunities to go for long rides living in the sheltered woods like they did. Haldir and the half-dozen other Lothlórien warriors chosen to accompany Legolas back to Mirkwood were all actually very excited about the opportunity.

Final goodbyes were said to friends made over the last few months, and before long Legolas and the escort party were on their way. A few hours later they crossed the Lothlórien borders, and Legolas felt a thrill of excitement go through him as they set off in the direction of Mirkwood.

He was finally going home.

* * *

 _Early morning about ten days later._

Legolas gently scratched his mare, Malel, behind her ear, even as he kept his senses alert for any sign of trouble. By great fortune, they'd come across a grove of pine trees early the previous evening that they'd decided to shelter under for the night. The tree's leaves were so thick that the ground was practically dry in spite of the rain, and there were enough of them that someone coming towards the grove would take a while to see the elves hidden within. It seemed like the perfect place to spent the night, and the Lothlórien elves had all wanted to rest straight away. But Legolas had insisted they organise a guard rotation first, so they wouldn't be taken by surprise should something or someone attack them. The other elves had eventually agreed to go along with Legolas's plan, though it was clear they thought he was over-reacting. Even Haldir seemed sceptical that a guard was needed, but eventually agreed it couldn't hurt.

Thinking back on the discussion made Legolas sigh softly and rest his forehead against Malel's neck. The Galadhrim elves really had no idea just what was out here beyond the protected borders of their peaceful woods. That was becoming more and more obvious. That kind of ignorance could very well kill them if the enemy ever took advantage of it.

Legolas was jerked out of his thoughts as Malel suddenly threw up her head, before flaring her nostrils and shifting nervously. Legolas was instantly on alert, and gently placed a hand on her neck as he murmured to the mare softly in the Silvan dialect.

"What's wrong girl? What have you sensed?"

He might not have his father's innate gift for talking to animals, but Legolas could still often sense their feelings and moods. Especially with the horse he'd raised from foalhood. It didn't take long for Malel's nervous energy to turn into full-blown panic, though she was too well trained and sensible to run and instead pawed the ground nervously three times. However, when that happened, Legolas immediately knew what was wrong. He run lightly back to the slumbering elves and shook Haldir urgently.

"Orcs are nearby!"

The Marchwarden of Lothlórien was awake and on his feet in a second, even as Legolas quickly woke the rest of the elves. Within a minute they were all armed and alert, looking around nervously. It was still raining heavily, and even though their camping place under the pine trees was dry, visibility was a problem. Legolas strained his eyes to try and see through the gloom the trees and rain cast, but could see nothing in any direction. The lack of visibility wasn't a huge problem for him however, as Legolas simply place his hand on the trunk of the nearest pine tree and asked it what was happening. Having Silvan elf blood really did come in useful.

The Lothlórien elves all waited, uneasily eyeing their surroundings, bows at the ready. While a couple of them were Silvan, these trees refused to talk to them for whatever reason, which unsettled them even more than the prospect of orcs did. Legolas, on the other hand, appeared to have no trouble communicating with the trees. Haldir filed this away to ask Legolas about later. In spite of the potentially dire situation, he was curious as to why this was. Finally, the prince straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the trunk and frowned as he regarded the seven elves with him.

"There are about forty orcs, and they are heading this way at an extremely fast pace. That is all the tree would tell me. However, I have a feeling that they might actually be heading here; as we all know this is the only type of shelter for miles. We must be ready to fight them."

One of the warriors spoke up upon hearing that.

"But Legolas, what if they pass us by? Do you still have to interfere with them? Why not hide and only fight them if we are attacked?"

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Why not fight them before they have an opportunity to attack and take them by surprise? There are enough of us that numbers shouldn't be an issue, and it's always fun to interfere with our enemies plans. Does anyone else object to fighting them?"

There were a chorus of no's and one yes. Haldir had listened quietly up to this point, but decided right then and there that they'd wasted enough time already. He was the leader of the escort party after all, and they had to do what he said.

"We are going to fight the orcs; that is final. We might let them go this time, only to run into them later when we aren't prepared for them. This way we are prepared, and have the element of surprise on our side. Also, might I remind you that we are here to protect Prince Legolas? Who clearly intends to fight them. So, if everyone would please shut up we can make a plan before they arrive."

The objecting elf said no more, and Haldir turned to face Legolas. He looked very excited at the prospect of fighting the orcs as well.

"What will our best strategy for fighting them, Legolas? Can we shoot at them from the trees? Or are we going to have to get closer?"

Legolas smiled gratefully at him, though his eyes wore a grim expression.

"I wouldn't trust these trees not to purposefully drop us in front of the orcs. They have been greatly affected by the darkness, which is probably why they won't speak to you at all. They are not very friendly, and will only speak to me because I grew up with trees like them and know how to read them. Shoot the orcs by all means, but it will have to be done from the ground."

At that point, the sound of many feet tramping over the wet ground reached the ears of the waiting elves. Legolas readied his bow, and made sure his knives were on his back and easily accessible, before beckoning the others to follow him. He didn't want to fight under the pine trees. Though he'd fought enemies in smaller and more cramped spaces, the Galadhrim elves ran the risk of not having enough room to manoeuvre their long blades around due to the low hanging branches. There was a very good reason why the Mirkwood elves used dual long knives alongside their bows. Ever since long knives had been introduced as an alternative weapon to the sword, over 90% of the woodland warriors had adopted them. Swords definitely had their uses, but knives were so much more practical for what they did.

The elves all hid in the shadows at the edge of the trees, and watched the orcs come closer. They seemed to be unaware that they were being watched, and continued to tramp along, chanting quietly to themselves as they headed towards the pine grove. Legolas placed an arrow on his bow string, and patiently waited for them to come within shooting range.

When they did, the sound of multiple arrows leaving bows shattered the uneasy stillness that had descended on the area. The first attack caused the orcs to screech in horror and scatter in confusion. As they had the element of surprise, the hidden elves were able to fire off several volleys of arrows, downing a good number of orcs, before the creatures realised what was happening, and charged towards them. When that happened, many of the Galadhrim drew their swords and moved forward to meet the enemy in hand-to-hand. Legolas, however, continued firing off his bow without pause. So long as he had enough room to manoeuvre, his bow was preferable to close combat. It soon became too hard to continue to shoot the orcs as there was so many of them so close together, so Legolas broke his cover, drew his twin knives from their sheaths, and dove into the heart of the battle. He moved so fast that he'd taken down three orcs before the others realised that he was even there. When they did, one actually screamed in anger.

"Albai erynai!" ( _my interpretation of Orcish/black speech for wood elf, eg. The Mirkwood elves_ )

When he heard the scream, Legolas gave a feral grin as he easily beheaded an orc foolish enough to charge straight towards him. He understood what the orc meant, having heard the term used many times before whilst out hunting enemies in Mirkwood. The other orcs all knew what it meant as well, as about a dozen let off what they were doing to come at him simultaneously. Legolas ducked out of the way of the stampede before driving a blade into the nearest orcs stomach. He'd missed the excitement of these sorts of fights during his time in Lothlórien. Actually, come to think of it, he hadn't had this much fun fighting orcs for a long time. At some point in the last couple of hundred years it had become a chore, something he had to do to survive, nothing more.

But this, this felt more like it had back when he'd first started going on patrols.

It was tricky to keep ones footing on the damp and slippery ground whilst dancing around killing the orcs, and Legolas was extremely thankful that he had so much practice in running through often slippery tree branches. Even so, fighting the orcs was hard. Especially when they were specifically targeting you. Legolas spun nimbly out of the way of an orcs blade, only to leap up and slash the tendons in the creatures arm a moment later, causing it to give a howl of pain and drop its weapon. Legolas swiftly finished it off by beheading it, before he darted towards the next one and scooted past it on his knees. Ducking out of the way of its blade, Legolas slashed the back of its knees with one blade, bringing it to the ground, before he spun around and finished it off by sticking his other blade through its neck. He then run lightly up its back and used it as a platform from which to launch himself at another two orcs, disposing of them simultaneously by sticking his knives into their throats. There was a slight lull in the fighting just then, and Legolas took the opportunity to quickly glance around to see how the other elves were doing. They all seemed to be fairing ok, though their swords looked very cumbersome and awkward to handle to Legolas. Give him twin knives any day.

The fight was over remarkably fast. In spite of their superior numbers, the orcs did not stand a chance against the elves skills. On top of that, they had been caught completely unprepared. When they were all down, Legolas picked his way over the orc bodies, making sure they all were indeed dead. He'd once had a slightly smarter than normal orc pretend to be dead, only to use the last of its strength to almost kill him when his back was turned. Since then, Legolas had taken no chances whatsoever when dealing with the enemy.

As he prodded at every fallen orc with his knives, Legolas had to blink the water out of his eyelashes. Thanks to the still falling rain, his fair hair was plastered to his head. His face and clothes were also streaked with mud, and the rivets of water running down his back were making him very uncomfortable. At least he was uninjured, which was a plus. The other elves weren't as fortunate. Several had minor cuts that required medical attention, and they were all as wet and dirty as the prince, some worse. Legolas grinned to himself; his father's lessons and secrets on how to maintain the image of an immaculate appearance at all times always paid off, though Legolas would have to address the problems sometime soon. After satisfying himself that the orcs were indeed all dead, Legolas turned to face his escort.

"Well, that was fun, but I'm looking forward to heading back to shelter. Does anyone have any serious injuries?"

Everyone shook their heads, though some just stared at him in disbelief at the casual way he described the fight. Legolas was just relieved that there was no one seriously hurt, and as soon as they arrived back at camp he went to retrieve his bags and find the medical supplies that were in them. He knew how to clean and bandage minor wounds, how to triad the wounded in worse cases, how to administer poison antidotes (providing he knew which poison had been used), and he could sew up wounds if he absolutely had to, but he had no natural talent as a healer and more serious injuries were beyond him. Like his father, he had not been blessed with that particular ability. As Mirkwood was such a dangerous place, everyone knew basic first-aid procedures, and every patrol took at least one fully trained healer out with them. Each warrior also carried the antidote to spider venom and the more common poisons that the orcs used in a small pouch placed in the exact same place on their belts. That way, everyone always knew exactly where the antidote was, not matter who was injured or who needed it. Legolas had several vials of the common antidotes with him right now, but he hoped he wouldn't have to use any of them.

Though Legolas didn't think that any of the orcs they'd just fought would have been carrying poisoned blades. Going on the fact they weren't heavily armoured and seemed to be very lightly armed, he was willing to bet that they hadn't being carrying poison. When you'd fought as many orcs as Legolas had, you started to recognise patterns in the behaviour and weapons of certain groups. Some people might say that all orcs were the same, but that was not exactly the case. While they were certainly all foul creatures, there were subtle differences between them. Differences which Legolas was, somewhat sadly, very familiar with.

The elves once again took shelter under the trees, and Legolas quickly and efficiently treated the wounded. He'd just finished bandaging a minor gash on an elf's leg and was prepared to go to the next patient when Haldir cornered him.

"Legolas, I have a question. What was it that orc said that made the other orcs all suddenly target you?"

The elves around them all looked up in interest as they waited for Legolas to reply. It took a while and when he eventually did, the prince avoided everyone's gaze and concentrated on cleaning the wounded arm he was currently working on.

"He identified me as being from Mirkwood, and therefore very dangerous to them. We have earnt quite the reputation among the evil creatures that haunt the forest. They know we will stop at nothing to kill them, and likely succeed in our efforts. They fear and loath us in equal measures."

The elf he was currently treating spoke up.

"But how did it identify you as coming from there? It's not like you look very different to us."

Legolas smiled wryly as he finished bandaging the wound.

"It was probably my weapons that set me apart. Only the elves of Mirkwood use dual long knives; they are a very distinctive tell. Believe it or not, orcs do not always just attack blindly. There is quite often some type of planning in what they do, especially with these smaller groups. Checking to see what weapons your enemy is carrying before you get into the heat of battle is a practical thing to do. I'd say that is what happened. When that orc saw my blades, he knew instantly where I was from, and warned the others. That is why they all tried to attack me at once. Our reputation is well earned, and they wanted to take me down before I had a chance to kill them all. Which they knew I would do if given half the chance."

The matter of fact way Legolas spoke about these things made it clear that he was not boasting about his skills, merely stating a fact of his life. The other elves all wondered for the first time just how many enemies the young wood elf warrior had fought in his relatively short life to know all these things. He was at least a millennium younger than the youngest of them, yet possessed a wisdom and knowledge about the world that none of them did. It made the Galadhrim elves wonder just how bad the situation was in Mirkwood, and Haldir made a mental note to ramp up the training of his own warriors when they returned home. Just because they lived in a safe place, that did not mean they shouldn't still train like their lives depended on it. One day, they very well might.

After the wounded had all been treated, the elves spent what remained of the night on edge. Though the danger had been dealt with, everyone was too keyed up to rest, and they set out again on their journey at first light. Thankfully, the rain had stopped just before dawn, and the elves could see the sunrise for the first time in several days. The wet landscape was very beautiful as it gleamed in the sunlight, and the improved weather boosted the elves spirits enormously. The horses also cheered up with the improved weather, and the rest of the trip to the edge of Mirkwood was, thankfully, uneventful.

* * *

Three days after the orc attack, the elves entered the northern part of the forest of Mirkwood. To the Galadhrim elves, it felt like they'd entered a different universe. To Legolas, it felt like coming home. He'd grown up in these woods, and spent his whole life here. While they were dark and dangerous, he knew practically every stream, tree and rock that was in them. However, this time the prince was shocked to realise just how dark Mirkwood had become. As it had happened gradually over several centuries, he hadn't noticed it before. It was just normal. Now, having spent almost three months in Lothlórien, the darkness and evil in Mirkwood was all the more present. The Galadhrim elves were noticeably affected by it, and were eyeing the forest around them nervously as they followed Legolas's lead. The prince led them carefully through the woods, following elven made paths that were so well hidden only he could see them.

However, Legolas did not feel like the darkness and evil was overwhelming _him_ like it had before. Rather, he felt rested and full-of-energy, all ready to fight it once again. And this time, he would not allow his emotions to be affected so much by his surroundings that he started fading from despair. Nor would he allow himself to go in the other direction, and become cold and distant. No, he had to find a balance somewhere in the middle and not budge from there.

They'd only been in the woods a few hours before Legolas became aware that they were being followed, but not by enemies. He could feel the wood elves presence in the back of his mind, and found it very comforting knowing that his friends were nearby. Therefore, he was not surprised when sometime later they rounded a corner to find a group of wood elves pointing arrows at everyone in the group but Legolas. The Galadhrim elves clearly hadn't realised they were being followed, as they stopped short and involuntarily made to reach for their own weapons. They quickly stopped when Haldir sharply shook his head at them however, even as more elves dropped down from the trees and circled them, arrows at the ready. Legolas took no notice of them. He had recognised the group's leader standing there with a stern look on his face.

"Tirnel!"

In seconds, the prince was off his horse and embracing the blond-haired warrior, who was so surprised by the action that he dropped his weapons and almost fell over. Legolas soon released him and smiled around at the gathered elves, who had all lowered their bows slightly, but were still ready for any attack from the Lothlórien elves. The Mirkwood elves led hard lives, and did not find it in them to trust strangers easily. Legolas made a gesture to them and spoke in Silvan so they would all understand him.

"It's fine, they mean us no harm, you can lower your weapons. In fact, they kept me safe on the trip here. It is doubtful that I would have been able to fight off all the orcs without them."

Tirnel rounded on Legolas upon hearing that.

"You fought a pack of orcs on your way here? Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention? Braigneth!"

Legolas shook his head, and gently placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"I am fine Tirnel. I did not even get a scratch. However, some of the others did. Though I treated them, and I would appreciate it very much if Braigneth or Rimon would have a quick look at their injuries if they are here." Legolas lowered his voice so that only his friend could hear him before going on. "They mean us no harm, Tirnel. They have been nothing but kind to me during my stay in the Golden Woods. I don't think that is about to change just because we are here. So, could you please tell everyone to lower their weapons?"

Tirnel sighed unhappily but nodded to his prince and issued an order to the wood elves. They immediately lowered their weapons, but kept them close at hand, as was their habit. They were in a part of the forest that belonged to the elves, but that did not mean that there would not be any spiders or orcs around. It just meant there was less chance of them turning up here as the area was patrolled regularly and any evil creatures that tried to take up residence there were killed.

Legolas spoke to Tirnel for a few more minutes before turning to Haldir.

"It is getting late, so it will be best if we make camp near here for the night. We are about a day's ride from the palace, so long as we leave at first light tomorrow and don't run into any unforeseen trouble."

Haldir nodded at the prince.

"That works for me. Where do we set up camp exactly? I mean no disrespect, but I can't see anywhere suitable for camping."

Legolas smiled brightly. He was delighted to be back in his woods, and was keen to show his new friends around.

"There is a hidden clearing up ahead just off the main track. All our campsites are hidden for safety reasons; unless you know they are there they are practically invisible. Follow me."

* * *

Thranduil was waiting when the party of horses clattered through the gates and into the courtyard area of the palace late afternoon of the following day. They had barely come to a stop before a cheerful, extremely familiar, and much missed voice cried out.

"ADA!"

Legolas jumped off his horse and threw himself into his father's arms. Headless of the wide eyes and gaping mouths from the Lothlórien escort that greeted his actions, Thranduil warmly embraced his only son and gently kissed the top of his head.

"My Green Leaf."

Legolas clung to him like he was afraid if he let go Thranduil would vanish. No words needed to be said between them. The two Mirkwood royals just stood there in front of everyone and embraced each other, heedless of what was happening around them. Realising this, and not at all surprised by this turn of events, Tirnel started issuing orders for the Galadhrim elves horses to be taken care of. Once that was done, he stated he would escort the visitors to some guest rooms so that they could freshen up and rest some before the welcome feast that would doubtlessly take place that night.

With a few last lingering bewildered looks at the woodland king and prince (this image of Thranduil did not match up at all with his reputation as a cold, unfeeling, and often cruel monarch), the visiting elves followed Tirnel into the palace. Neither father nor son noticed that everyone had left and they were now alone. After a long while, Legolas finally pulled back slightly so he could look at his father's face, even though he never left the kings embrace.

"I have missed you, Ada."

Thranduil smiled tenderly at him as one hand reached up to gently cup his sons face.

"I've missed you to, _ion nîn_."

Legolas wasted no more time in hugging his father again, and Thranduil felt a great sense of peace wash over him as he held his son. He'd missed Legolas greatly during the past few months. It was only by remembering that Legolas had been fading and needed help that he had being able to stop himself riding to Lothlórien and bringing his son back home.

But now Legolas was back. He was once again healthy, happy and strong. But best of all…

….his son was finally home.

* * *

 **And as promised, we have the hugs. :)**

* * *

 **AUTHORS NOTES:**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and as a birthday present to myself (today is my birthday) I have also posted another chapter that expands on this one in the Outtakes! So, for anyone who doesn't know that in the last month I have started another story called The Foundling Prince-Outtakes, look it up and let me know what you think so far!**

 **Thankyou to reviewers of the last chapter! wswpub, Hawaiichick, Freeranger, AHealingRenaissance, Ne'ith5, aficionada-de-libros, Dola, TruniS, SilverOnlyReads, CoffeeRanger.**

 **This story is unbeta-ed and only edited by me, so if you find any mistakes please politely point them out by PM or review, and I will endeavour to fix them.**

 **The next chapter should be up fairly soon (it is almost finished) but there may be some delay in posting more chapters after that for this story. I will finish it, never fear, but we are getting up to the War of the Ring now, and several chapters have to be written practically from scratch. Though I am not covering the War in any detail, I still have to deal with the fall-out and implications it brings with it. Along with trying to keep up with Uni work and battling a very persistent cold that has decided it is my new BF. Needless to say, its feelings aren't reciprocated.**

 **However, I fully plan on continuing the Outtakes during the next couple of months as I can play with them in the little spare time I have. If you haven't already, I highly recommend keeping an eye on them! I will also be giving updates in the Authors Notes as to how this story is shaping up.**

 **So, was the father-son reunion, (and the orcs) worth the waiting the Plot Bunnies put as all through?**


	19. Thranduil is hurt

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Thankyou to reviewers of last chapter, and everyone who sent me birthday wishes! gginsc, Andy the willow tree, Hawaiichick, Dola, Guest, CoffeeRanger, aficionada-de-libros, and Freeranger.**

 **Unbeta-ed and only proof-read by me, so if you find any spelling mistakes please politely point them out and I will endeavour to fix them.** **I honestly don't know why I didn't think of writing a chapter like this a long time ago, seeing as I apparently love emotionally!torturing Thranduil. Have some emotionally!tortured Legolas and physically!tortured Thranduil to balance it out.**

 **This takes place chronologically sometime after the last chapter. Legolas is around 2000ish years old. This is the last of the individual one-shots I will be posting on this story. There are only five chapters left to go, and they all deal with the War of the Ring and the aftermath. However, I do plan on writing more one-shots for the Outtakes, and have a long to-do list, so keep an eye on them!**

 ***Warning* Sad times ahead. Reader discretion is advised. (that, or a big box of tissues)**

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Thranduil is hurt**

 _Prompt from several different people: Thranduil is hurt, possibly near death. How does Legolas handle it?_

 _(NOTE: Legolas has been ruling the woodland kingdom in his father's absence. Lagoron stayed home to help him, rather than accompanying his king on his trip. It will make sense.)_

Legolas huddled on a branch high in the old oak tree. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his arms were wrapped around them, even as tears streamed down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking into a million little pieces.

His Ada was hurt, seriously hurt, and Legolas did not know how to handle it. Thranduil was the king of the whole realm and his father, he was the strongest elf Legolas had ever known. He was not supposed to get hurt!

The oak tree did not understand why the wood elf sitting high in its branches was so upset, and was doing its best to comfort the sad elf. Its branches and leaves gently brushed the prince's shoulders and arms as the tree tried everything it could to get Legolas's attention. However, right now, nothing save his father being alive and well could comfort Legolas. His mind was far away as he tried to deal with what had happened.

Thranduil was currently lying unconscious on a bed in the healing halls, as Tuchon and the other healers worked frantically over him. Legolas didn't know exactly what had happened. All he knew was that his father's hand-picked guard had returned from the diplomatic trip three days later than expected, bearing the bloody and unconscious body of the Elvenking. The only thing Legolas was sure about right now was that his father was gravely injured, and might die. He'd heard the warriors who'd brought him in whisper as much as the king was taken into the healing halls.

Oh Valar, what would he do if Thranduil _died_?

He might be Thranduil's heir and the Crown Prince to the throne of Mirkwood, but Legolas knew he was not ready to take over ruling their kingdom full-time. He probably would _never_ be ready for that kind of responsibility. He didn't have the right temperament to be a good king, and Thranduil knew that. They'd discussed everything in detail not long after Legolas had reached his majority, and re-visited the topic fairly regularly. Happily, for Legolas, there had been no reason why he would ever have to take over as king. His father was immortal, and had survived Wars, assassination attempts, and even the sacking of Doriath during his long life. Legolas did not know Thranduil's exact age, but from some of the stories he'd been told he gathered that Thranduil may very well be one of the oldest elves living on Middle Earth. There was always the possibility of Thranduil sailing West before Legolas did (providing either of them ever decided to sail) but they'd agreed a long time ago to deal with that obstacle if, and when, they ever came to it. That being said, the chances of Legolas ever having to take over his father's crown had been so remote as to be practically non-existent.

Until today.

Legolas slowly became aware of the trees concern for him as the initial shock and confusion that had possessed him upon realising his father was hurt passed, leaving a numb feeling in its wake. The wood elf slowly reached out and caressed a nearby leaf, which quivered in pleasure at his light touch. For a long time, the elf just sat there, seeking comfort from the tree, who was more than happy to provide it. Hours past, and the elf did not move or say anything. There was nothing to say.

"Legolas, Legolas! Where are you? LEG-O-LAS!"

The prince was jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of Gelessil calling him. He thought briefly about not answering, as he did not feel like speaking to anyone right now. He dismissed that idea very quickly. If he didn't turn up, Gelessil would simply ask the trees where he was, and the traitorous things would tell her straight away. But he would at least be able to put off facing anyone for a little bit longer.

Just as he was thinking these things, another voice joined in, this one directly below the tree.

"Legolas! My prince, you can come and see your father now!"

Upon hearing Lagoron's words, Legolas was down the tree so fast that he actually succeeded in startling the seneschal when he landed next to him a few seconds later.

"How is he? What happened? Is he doing to die?"

Legolas didn't realise he was shaking until Lagoron put a gentle hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"The healers have done what they can, the rest is up to Thranduil. Knowing his stubbornness, I would be surprised if he doesn't come back to us. However, we must all be prepared for the worse. His wounds were pretty severe."

Gelessil joined them just as Lagoron finished speaking. She looked worried.

"There you are, my prince. I was starting to get concerned. Has Lagoron told you about the king?"

Legolas nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Gelessil exchanged a look with Lagoron before she enveloped Legolas in a hug. The prince momentarily stiffened, before all but collapsing into her arms as he started sobbing again. Gelessil just held him close, murmuring gently to him in the Silvan dialect, which Lagoron did not understand much of. Thranduil was the one who could speak it fluently; Lagoron had never quite managed to pick it up. Not sure what else to do, the seneschal just stood there awkwardly. He did not know how to best comfort the prince; he was better at comforting Thranduil. Fortunately, Gelessil knew exactly what she was doing. She had been the prince's nurse and confident since he was a small elfling after all.

Finally, Legolas pulled back from the Silvan elf's embrace and sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Lagoron winced and handed him a clean handkerchief without a word. Legolas took it and nodded in thanks. The prince took a few deep breaths before he spoke in a very small voice.

"Can I see Ada now?"

Lagoron nodded.

"Of course. That is why we came to find you. Come."

Legolas silently followed Lagoron, still feeling numb. Gelessil walked slowly next to him, occasionally touching his arm to keep him grounded. While Lagoron might not quite know how to handle the prince, Gelessil was an old hand at it. She knew that Legolas was very sensitive, and had the habit of retreating into himself when anything bad happened. He had to be gently coaxed out of that mindset. Hopefully, seeing Thranduil would help the prince to come back to reality.

Though Gelessil didn't dare to think what the king currently looked like. She knew that orcs could be brutal to elves, and Thranduil had been their prisoner for almost _four days_.

As if sensing her thoughts, Legolas stirred beside her.

"Gelessil?"

The ellith nodded.

"Yes, my prince?"

Legolas swallowed.

"What exactly happened to Ada? Did the _humans_ do this?"

Thranduil had gone on a diplomatic mission in person almost two weeks previously to the human settlements of Dale and Lake Town. He'd come back injured. His son had been so shaken by that fact, that he'd only just realised he didn't know how his father had gotten hurt.

Gelessil looked at the tall silver-haired elf they were following.

"Lagoron, I think that you are better qualified to answer that question, seeing the guards reported to you what happened."

Thranduil's seneschal stopped walking, and turned to fact the two elves following him with a grave look on his face.

"My prince, the humans did not have anything to do with this. From all accounts, the negotiations went very well. However, on the way home, the group was attacked by a band of at least sixty orcs while they slept. Normally, that number wouldn't have been a problem for a band of well-trained elven warriors. However, these orcs were some of the cleverer ones, and somehow managed to conceal their approach. In the sheer confusion that followed their surprise attack, they managed to kidnap the king. No one realised what was happening until it was too late to do anything. Many of the elves were wounded and several were killed, but those that remained went after the orc pack as soon as they were able to walk. It took them almost four days to track them down, and during that time the orcs had the king at their mercy. I don't need to tell you how the orcs feel regarding elves."

Legolas shuddered.

"No. I know. Why didn't the guards send someone back here to fetch reinforcements?"

Lagoron sighed unhappily.

"They apparently did. However, the messenger never arrived. No one knows what happened to him, but it can't be anything good."

Legolas swallowed.

"Who did we lose?"

Several of his friends had been on that mission. Not Tirnel or Braigneth, but others whom the prince knew and liked.

Lagoron softly listed their names. Legolas felt tears gather in his eyes again as two of his friends, elves who'd trained him become a warrior, were named among those who had gone to Mandos's Halls. Gelessil made to hold him again, but Legolas shrugged her off as he fought back the tears. After a moment, Legolas spoke.

"I want to see Ada."

The two older elves just nodded as all three resumed heading for the healing halls.

* * *

Night had long since fallen in the Woodland Realm, but Lagoron was still hovered outside the closed door of the room currently housing Thranduil and Legolas like a worried mother-bird, as Gelessil so aptly put it. He couldn't help it. Looking after the royal family was _his_ responsibility, and he felt like he'd failed them. By staying here in Mirkwood to help Legolas handle things while the king was gone, he hadn't been there when Thranduil needed him to watch his back. The king had been captured by orcs and tortured for almost four days, returning to the palace unconscious and gravely wounded. Lagoron was currently feeling very uptight and on the verge of panic, but for the sake of the king and Legolas he was locking his emotions away and grimly handling things. Legolas, who was still technically in charge, was in no shape to be making decisions right now. In the absence of any royal presence, running things fell to Lagoron. Thranduil had made that declaration a long time ago.

"Laggie, please stop your pacing. It's starting to drive me insane."

Lagoron paused mid-step as he looked over at Gelessil with a slightly stunned expression at the nickname. The Silvan elf just gave him a very unimpressed look. She was sitting down in a chair, busy knitting something. Where she had gotten the wool and needles from, the seneschal had no idea. Like him, she hadn't left the halls since they'd bought Legolas in to see his father some time ago.

"Laggie?"

Gelessil shrugged.

"It got your attention, didn't it? Now, either sit down and wait patiently, or take your pacing somewhere else please. You are not doing either of them any good at the moment, and I'm tired of your ceaseless moving around."

Lagoron felt intimidated by the firm, quiet, and yet very confident voice of the Silvan elf maiden who was staring at him with unblinking dark eyes. In fact, her eyes were so dark that in the dim light of the halls they looked almost black. Lagoron wondered why he'd never noticed that odd fact before. Elves did not generally have eyes that dark.

Even among the Silvan elves, it was very unusual. And the implications of Gelessil's eyes being that colour…

Gelessil raised a dark eyebrow.

"Do you want something, Lagoron?"

Though her tone was pleasant, there was an undercurrent of _something_ in it that made the seneschal hastily avert his eyes. Lagoron dropped into a nearby chair and sighed heavily.

"Yes, I want guidance and advice on how to handle this. I just don't know what to do right now. This has shaken me more than I want to admit."

Gelessil nodded.

"Yes, it has shaken us all. The prince more than most, but that is to be expected. He is very close to Thranduil, as it should be. Both of them have already lost enough in their lives; for them to lose each other would spell doom for us all."

Lagoron's head shot up, and he opened his mouth to ask a question, before His eyes met Gelessil's and the question died on his lips. There was something in her eyes and posture that suggested she knew more about certain events than Lagoron did, but not to bother asking her about them as she wasn't going to tell anyone. Legolas may love her, and the king trusted her completely with his son and had since he had been a small elfling, (which was high praise indeed). But she was currently making Lagoron feel very uncomfortable.

He suddenly wanted to leave to get away from the mysterious Silvan elf who was giving him the creeps. He felt like she saw straight through him and into his soul. It was not a pleasant sensation. But he wasn't sure how to leave without making it look like he'd ran away, which wouldn't do for the person who was currently virtually in charge of the whole realm.

He was mercifully saved from the awkward situation by the timely arrived of his other frequent headache.

Without any warning, Galion appeared in the hallway. He was panting and clutching his chest, and Lagoron immediately jumped up in alarm.

"What's happened Galion? Is someone hurt?"

The head butler shook his head as he stopped in front of the seneschal and tried to get his breath back.

"No…elves...arrived…messenger…dead…killed…want to talk…in charge…you!"

Lagoron managed not to gape at the garbled sentence, but it was a near thing. Gelessil just watched the whole scene with a blank expression as Lagoron finally gathered his thoughts enough to speak.

"Galion, would you please repeat what you just said? I did not understand a word."

The butler had gotten most of his breath back by this point, and nodded.

"Okay. A group of elves has just arrived at the palace. They found the body of the messenger that was sent to inform us of Thranduil's capture out in the forest. He is dead; killed. They want to talk to whoever's in charge heres. That person right now is you. I highly doubt Prince Legolas is going to be making any decisions anytime soon. They are waiting in the throne room."

Lagoron sighed.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Galion, come with me please. I'll need your help to deal with this mess. There is nothing I can do here right now, and it is up to us to keep this kingdom running until the royals are fit to take over leadership again."

* * *

Legolas sighed as he gently stroked the back of one of his father's hands; it was virtually the only spot on the king's body that wasn't covered in bandages. The king had not moved since Legolas had entered the room, nor had he responded to anything the prince had said. Tuchon had told him of the injuries they had had to treat. They were very extensive, and some of the cuts were quite deep and many of the burns the king had received were infected. Fortunately, the orcs hadn't appeared to have poisoned Thranduil, which was a relief them all. None of the injuries themselves should prove fatal, though there was always a chance of that happening, and should heal without too much trouble given enough time. The king's mental state was something else entirely, and no one was sure what to do about it.

The king had apparently managed to will himself into an almost coma-like trance during his captivity. It was designed to both heal his body and preserve his mental state so he wouldn't be affected by the orcs torture, the healers had eventually decided. Right now, his consciousness was far away. Nothing the healers had done had been able to reach him, as he was not responding to voices or touch. Most of the healers were stumped about what to do, as they'd never seen anything like this before. However, one elf had, and she knew what must be done.

For that reason, Tunith had lingered behind and quietly spoken to Legolas after everyone else had left the room. She suspected that the only thing that might be able to bring the king back from wherever he had gone was the sound of a loved-one's voice. She'd told Legolas to talk to his father, and let him hear his voice as much as possible. It may serve to guide Thranduil's consciousness back to them from wherever it had gone. Legolas had looked at Tunith with confusion when she said that.

"How do you know that? The others said they don't know how to bring him back."

Tunith's eyes had been sad as she'd knelt down to be on eye level with the seated prince, and gently laid her hand on Legolas's shoulder.

"It is not the first time I have witnessed something of this sort happen, _ernil nin_. In that case, the voice of a loved one pleading with them to come back helped the patient's fea find its way back to the light. I can't guarantee anything, the mind is a very complex thing that we don't have a hope of ever understand, but it certainly can't hurt." (my prince)

Tunith had then pressed a gentle kiss to Legolas's forehead before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her. Legolas had taken her advice and talked to his father practically non-stop since then, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Thranduil remained unresponsive and unmoving. His eyes remained closed, and the slow rise and fall of his chest was the only indicator that he was still alive.

Legolas soon lost track of how much time had passed since he'd entered the halls. Tunith and Gelessil entered the room intermittently to either check on Thranduil or Legolas or even both of them; and Gelessil tried to encourage the prince to eat to keep up his strength. She had limited success. Legolas tried to eat to please Gelessil, but he just wasn't hungry, and his stomach rebelled against food. He couldn't eat while his beloved father was injured and lying unconscious and unresponsive in the healing halls. Thranduil was the only parent and family he had, and Legolas loved him dearly. He could not imagine life without Thranduil.

It was with that thought that tears began running down Legolas's face yet again. With the amount of crying he'd done in the last few hours, it was a wonder he had any tears left, but he did. Laying his head carefully on his father's bandaged chest, the younger elf cried in earnest. Legolas sobbed his sorrow as he felt the slow but continuous rise and fall of Thranduil's chest as the later breathed. That small movement was the only indicator that his father had not yet gone to the Halls of Mandos.

"Please Ada, come back to me. I _need_ you. I don't know how I will survive without you. The healers say that your wounds, while bad, are not enough to kill you, providing your fea comes back. For that, there is nothing they can do. Ada, hear my voice, and come back to me. Please."

There was still no response, and eventually Legolas drifted to sleep in that position, too tired and full of sorrow to try moving even though he would most likely end up with a sore neck later. He was awoken sometime later by familiar fingers being carded gently through his hair, and a very familiar voice whispering his name.

"Legolas. My precious little green leaf. I've missed you, _ion nîn_." (my son)

The prince raised his head and looked at his father's face. Thranduil's eyes were finally open, and though he was very pale and his eyes were full of pain, he was smiling. Legolas threw his arms around his father, being mindful of his injuries, and hugged him as hard as he dared. Thranduil weakly embraced him back as he chuckled.

"I gather you've missed me as well."

Legolas did not let go, and when he spoke his voice was slightly muffled due to his face being mostly hidden in Thranduil's shoulder.

"Yes, I thought for a while that you might not come back and I would be left all alone. I can't lose you!"

Thranduil gently rubbed soothing circles on his son's back with his least injured hand as he spoke.

"It will take more than a few days with orcs to make me give up my life voluntarily, Legolas. I haven't lived this long to be defeated by something so trivial. Now, as much as I'm enjoying this, would you mind not hugging me quite so hard?"

Legolas immediately let go and looked horrified.

"Did I hurt you? Where does it hurt?"

Thranduil sighed.

"Everything hurts. Lying down here doing nothing hurts. The orcs really did a number on me. What's the healer's verdict?"

And so Legolas told Thranduil what Tuchon had said, never letting go of his father's hand. No sooner had he finished speaking, then Tuchon himself entered the room. The head healer blinked to find the king so wide awake, and apparently in good enough shape to be having a conversation with Legolas. Tuchon quickly scurried across to the bed.

"How are you feeling, _Aran nin_?" (my king)

Thranduil smiled wryly at the healer.

"Like orcs used me as a plaything for several days. Everything hurts right now."

Tuchon nodded.

"I'm not surprised. Let me prepare something to help ease the pain so that you can rest."

Tuchon left some time later, having finally satisfied himself that he'd done everything possible to make the king comfortable. Right now, Thranduil needed rest and time to heal. He also needed peace and quiet. To achieve that, Tuchon had tried to make the prince go to his room and get some rest, assuring him his father would be fine. However, Legolas still refused to leave Thranduil's side. After being on the receiving end of the prince's death glare when he suggested the idea, Tuchon quickly dropped the subject, made his excuses, and fled the room. Thranduil was awake and wasn't about to die; therefore, he'd done his duty.

It was not his job to deal with the bullheadedness and stubbornness that resided in the royal family. That was Lagoron's job. Tuchon's job was to put them back together when they were injured. Which didn't happen too often anymore since Legolas had started been more careful, thank the Valar.

Once they were alone again, it didn't take long for Thranduil's initial energy to wane. Suddenly feeling exhausted, the king closed his eyes and started drifting off to sleep. He was abruptly pulled out of it by Legolas grabbing his hand.

"Ada! Don't leave me again, please!"

Thranduil opened his eyes and frowned at the look of terror on his son's face.

"I'm not leaving you _ion nîn_. I am just very tired, in pain, and want to rest. I'm not going anywhere; I just want some sleep. Don't fret. It's not healthy for an elf to worry so much."

Legolas glared at his father in exasperation, though the previous worry was still evident on his face.

"Like you don't worry about me all the time. You've said so yourself on more than one occasion."

Thranduil smiled weakly.

"True, I'm worried about you right now in fact. You look exhausted, _ion nîn_. Why don't you go and get some rest? I promise you, I will be fine."

Legolas shook his head and settled himself in his chair.

"I'm not leaving you. I can rest here."

Thranduil frowned.

"You can't get comfortable enough in that chair to be able to get proper rest."

"I don't care. I'm not leaving you again."

Casting around in his mind for some idea to make Legolas get some proper rest, Thranduil's eyes fell on the other bed in the room. The king smiled as he turned to Legolas.

"Okay. If you insist on staying here, you can at least use the other bed."

Legolas looked at the aforementioned bed, then at Thranduil, then at the bed again. Looking down at their still intertwined hands, Legolas got an impish look on his face and, untangling their hands, stood up. Crossing over to the other bed, the prince managed, with no small amount of noise, to push it across the room until it rested up against Thranduil's bed. That done, the prince laid down on it, and reached for Thranduil's hand again.

Legolas then smiled in contentment at his father.

"Happy Ada?"

Thranduil's lips twitched, and he gave Legolas the special look he reserved just for his son, even as he closed his eyes again. He was too tired to manage a proper smile. Before long, his breathing evened out, and it was clear he was sleeping. Legolas, worn out from the events of the past few days, was not far behind him.

And, when Tunith checked on them sometime later, the female healer would smile at the sight of the King and Prince of the Woodland Realm so openly showing their love and care for each other. She would then proceed to stand guard outside the door to ensure that no one entered the room or disturbed them. They needed this time together; it would speed up the healing process for both of them.

Tunith knew what they were going through better than they would ever be able to comprehend. She'd experienced the same thing when her twin had been hurt and near death when they'd still been elflings all those thousands of years ago. Her strong bond with Tuchon had been what brought him back when nothing else could reach him. It was after that incident that she'd decided to be a healer, and help others in whatever way she could.

Tuchon had soon followed her, as he was still inclined to do. And he had soon proven himself to be greatly skilled in the art. So skilled in fact, that he was now the head healer for the whole realm. While she was, technically, his subordinate, she was also his twin. His family. They shared an unbreakable bond, just like Legolas and Thranduil did.

Tunith smiled at that thought.

Family, no matter where they came from or who they were, would always be special. No matter what happened.

* * *

 ** _Plot Bunnies decided that Gelessil apparently has Avari blood, though she identifies as a Silvan elf. Hence her dark eyes. And also that it would be fun to have her intimidate Lagoron. And then Plot Bunnies decided they were going to give Tunith a backstory. I am still being held captive by the Plot Bunnies, as they force me to write what they want. Help me break free from their insistent torture please by reviewing? Reviews make them leave me alone for a bit while they purr in contentment. (Yes, they actually purr)_**


	20. The War of the Ring

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Hallo all, I'm finally back! Uni assignments have been making my life hell for the last few weeks, but I'm finally almost finished with them and have time to get back to fun stuff. Like finishing this story. The final six chapters are all more-or-less written, they mostly just need editing, so you can expect updates every day or two from here to the end.**

 **Thanks to aficionada-de-libros, SilverOnlyReads, Freeranger, AndurilofTolkien, Hawaiichick, Andy the willow tree, CoffeeRanger and Guest for their reviews of the last chapter!**

 **I hope you all enjoy this one!**

* * *

 **Chapter 20: The War of the Ring**

 _Thranduil's thoughts when he learns that his son has gone on a dangerous and suicidal quest to destroy the one ring. And his thoughts over the months that follow._

Thranduil stared numbly at the note in his hands. Though he'd read it so many times in the last few hours he knew what it said by heart, the Elvenking wanted to read it again. Just to make sure he had it right.

His son, his beloved, treasured, and _only_ living son, had gone on a dangerous quest to destroy the One Ring of Power that had resurfaced after thousands of years of being lost. He was currently traveling towards the dark land of Mordor in the company of a group of mortals and a wizard. They were all bound for the volcano that the ring had originally been forged in, the only place where it could also be destroyed. With shaking hands, Thranduil read the note again.

 _Dear Ada_

 _By the time you read this, I will have been traveling towards Mordor and Mt Doom for some weeks. Do not be angry with Lord Elrond or the other Rivendell elves father, for I decided to participate in this quest of my own free will. It is my duty, our duty, to help the free peoples of Middle Earth remain free. That is the reason I am doing this. We elves may be able to sail west and leave the mortals to whatever fate they are destined too, but I would never be able to rest with knowing that I ran away like a coward when they needed my help._

 _Ada, I plead with you not to send anyone after me. Our home needs you and all our warriors to protect it, just like the fellowship and the Ringbearer needs me and my skills to protect them. If the Valar will it, when this quest is over, and the ring is destroyed; when Aragorn is finally King of Arnor and Gondor and there is peace throughout Middle Earth, I will return to you. If, for some reason, I do not make it, know that I will meet you again one day in Valinor, should you decide to sail._

 _I wish that I have time to come say goodbye in person, but the fellowship is leaving in a few short days and I need time to prepare for this journey. Tirnel has promised he will hand-deliver my letter to you, and Elrond writes one of his own explaining the situation. Farewell dear Ada, until we see each other again._

 _Your son,_

 _Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion._

Even the sight of the nickname that Mithrandir had given to Legolas all those centuries ago as a joke (that the prince had eventually proudly adopted as part of his official name) did not reassure the king. His son was heading towards certain danger and almost certain death; and there was nothing Thranduil could do to stop him.

There had been many times in Legolas's long life when Thranduil had felt helpless. But, for the first time ever, he realised he truly was helpless in this situation. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help his son. Legolas, like Elrond and that meddling wizard, had decided to throw in his lot with mortals. He had made his decision, and was obviously determined to see it through to the end. No matter what that end may be.

Legolas had always been a very stubborn elf after all.

Thranduil sighed as he buried his face in his hands. No tears fell, but in his heart the king was screaming with anguish. Why, oh why, did his son have to do this? Why must he be so selfless that he would risk his life to help mortals, who would eventually die anyway? Why must he be part of this 'fellowship'?

As he thought these things, the king remembered Elrond's words to him all those years ago. Spoken back when the prince had still been an elfling regarding the visions he'd had of Legolas's future.

" _Whether for better or worse, Legolas Thranduilion is destined to do great things one day. I have a feeling that he is here with us for a reason, one that will become clear to us all when the time is right."_

Is this why Legolas was sent to Thranduil? To take part in this quest, a quest destined to save the whole of Middle Earth from evil should it succeed, and doom them all if it failed? Would the Valar be so cruel as to give Thranduil another son, just to rip him away? The king did not know.

Looking once again at the letter he was still clutching in his hands, Thranduil allowed his mind to focus on one line.

 _when Aragorn is King of Arnor and Gondor_.

Legolas had first met the heir of Isildur some years before, when Elrond's human foster son was still living with the Rangers of the North and going by the name Strider. A friendship had immediately formed between them, and Thranduil took some comfort from the fact that Aragorn was also going on this quest. His son would have the company of one person he knew and who understood elves at least. Though, apparently, Mithrandir was also going. Thranduil was not surprised at that. That wizard could never resist an opportunity to poke his nose into whatever was happening, whether it concerned him or not.

Thranduil had learnt _that_ the hard way over the many years he'd known Mithrandir, and had mentally and verbally cursed the Istari more than once. However, in this case the wizard's meddling may prove to be an asset, as Legolas had always liked and trusted Gandalf, as the mortals called him.

As for the other members of this group…Thranduil glanced at the letter from Elrond that was sitting on his desk.

A man from Gondor. Four Halflings, one of whom was bearing the One Ring. A dwarf.

This last one made Thranduil's lips curl in distaste. It was no secret that he did not like nor trust dwarves, and that was unlikely to ever change. He'd seen too many examples of their greed and corruption over the centuries to ever be anything other than civil with them at best. The thought of his son teaming up with one left a bad taste in the king's mouth. That dwarf had better not do anything to endanger his son, or he would have to answer to a very angry Elvenking. A king who had been known to behead his enemies with one swipe of his blade.

Thranduil's lips curled slightly upwards.

Yes, that dwarf had better be careful.

Thranduil finally moved to put Legolas's letter down but, as he did, another sentence caught his eye.

 _Ada, I plead with you not to send anyone after me. Our home needs you and all our warriors to protect it, just like the fellowship needs me and my skills to protect them._

Thranduil would love nothing more than to amass his whole army and march out to bring Legolas back home. His son had no doubt realised this, and was asking his father not to. Asking him to stay put and protect their home, and let him protect those he chose to. Which was all very well, but who would protect _him_?

Aragorn, a mortal man whose ancestor's decision had led to this mess? (thought Thranduil had long suspected that Elrond had had a larger hand in the ring's survival than he let on) An unknown man of Gondor? A dwarf? That thought made Thranduil snort in a most unroyal way. Spiders were more likely to grow wings and fly to Valinor then a dwarf willingly protect an elf. Four hobbits, most of whom did not even know how to fight? (Why Elrond and Mithrandir would let even one go, let alone four, was a mystery to the Elvenking) The only person Thranduil knew would at least attempt to look out for his son was the wizard. Times were beyond bad when he had to rely on a meddling wizard as the best person to look out for his son's safety.

Thranduil sighed heavily as he collapsed into his chair and stared at his hands. He had known this day would come eventually thanks (or no thanks) to Elrond, and had prepared Legolas for it as best he could. The prince was an adult now, and wasn't stupid by any means. He had been taught everything anyone could possibly teach him. He had learnt about survival skills, battle tactics, diplomacy, fighting, and a whole host of other things that had been deemed necessary for him to know. Thranduil realised he would have to trust Legolas and his decision to do this, as hard as it was. It was the only thing he could do.

Actually, it wasn't the only thing he could do.

"LAGORON!"

Moments later, his seneschal opened the door and entered the room. He'd been waiting outside the room all this time at Thranduil's request.

"Yes, my king? What would you have me do?"

Thranduil might not be able to help his son directly, but he could ensure that, when all this was over, there was still a home for Legolas to come back to.

Providing the world didn't fall to Sauron in the process. No one had ever accused the king of being an optimist. He'd seen too much.

"Lagoron. I want you to send out a message through our whole kingdom and summon all warriors to the palace to undergo intense training. They can bring their families if they must. In fact, I would prefer it if they did. We can shelter all who need it in these halls. We must be ready for what is coming."

Lagoron did not know what had gone down in Rivendell a few short weeks before, even though he was aware that Legolas had not returned from Rivendell with the rest of the diplomatic party. Not knowing the facts, the seneschal now looked at his king with an incredulous expression.

"Why all the preparations, Thranduil? What is coming?"

Thranduil looked at Lagoron with a fire in his eyes that the seneschal had never seen present in the Elvenking before. Not _this_ Elvenking at any rate.

Oropher, the previous king, had been the only elf Lagoron had ever known to sport that look. However, in this instance, Thranduil looked every inch his father's son. It was unsettling.

"War is coming, Lagoron. We must be prepared for it when it arrives, and for whatever else it may bring in its wake. Issue the decree."

* * *

The following months were hard for everyone. As Thranduil had predicted, the war did come, and it entangled all in its net. There was not one realm that was not affected in some way. Even Lothlórien was targeted more than once by Sauron's forces from Dol Guldur, though the power of Galadriel's ring repelled all the attacks. The wood elves of Mirkwood had no such magical protection; they protected their forest home through their own efforts. In the process, many fell, cut down brutally on the battle field by the enemy or dying later from the wounds they received. Despite this, the wood elves, both Sindar, Silvan and those of mixed blood, continued to fight. So long as the one ring remained out of Sauron's hands there was hope, and that was enough reason for them to keep going.

Thranduil had half-hoped that he might receive news of his son, but as the war went on he heard nothing. Trying to tell himself that no news was good and at least meant his son was still alive, Thranduil personally led several attacks on enemy camps. He and his people slaughtering orcs, uraks, and all the other manner of fowl creatures that the darkness had summoned in great numbers. Beneath the shadowed bows of the trees of Mirkwood, they fought a battle that seemed to never be going to end. It was discouraging, but Thranduil kept telling himself that he was helping Legolas by doing this. He told himself that every enemy they killed meant there was one less for his son to potentially face and therefore die fighting. As time went on, however, and the evil creatures seemed to just multiply, even Thranduil began to lose hope.

Then, abruptly, the attacks lessened and all but stopped. Rumours spread that Sauron had finally been defeated, and that the true heir of Isildur had come forth and claimed the throne of Gondor, reuniting it with the kingdom of Arnor in the process. It was now that Thranduil also finally received word of his son; he had survived the war, and was apparently helping Aragorn to re-build Gondor and unite all the races of Middle Earth. That news had made the king retire to his room and weep in joy; his son was still alive. Not long after that, Thranduil received a letter from Legolas himself. His son informed him of much the same things that he'd been hearing about, and assured his father that he was well. He also stated that, when he returned home very soon, he would be bringing a great friend with him, a friend who had saved his life. Thranduil did not know who this friend could be, as it was obviously not Aragorn or Legolas would have said straight out, but anyone who had saved his son's life was welcome in their home.

And so, it would seem there was finally peace in Middle Earth. However, the losses incurred by the War had been great on all sides. Even with the talk of peace coming at long last to the lands, Thranduil was growing weary of this life. He had been around since the First Age, and the weight of his many millenniums of existence was starting to catch up with him. He feared that, even when Legolas came home, he would not truly be able to be at peace here anymore. As these doubts started entering his mind, he found himself thinking of the sea more and more, though he had never seen it, and he cursed the Valar as he fought those thoughts. He did not _want_ to sail yet; he _couldn't_ sail yet. Most of the Silvan folk, and many of the Sindar, did not have any interest in sailing West; and they needed him here to guide and help them as they rebuilt their lives. His son had also never shown any inclination to sail, which Thranduil saw as being an even more compelling reason to stay here. There was no way that Thranduil would ever leave Middle Earth if it meant leaving Legolas behind forever. As much as he wanted to see his dear wife again, and meet his true-born son, Legolas was also his son, and very precious to him.

Thranduil sighed wearily. These thoughts and foreign longings for the sea were wearing him out. Being constantly plagued by them was giving him an even shorter temper than he normally possessed, and he passed many sleepless nights wrestling with his thoughts and feelings.

Why did things have to be so complicated all the time?

And, to add to his complications, one day not long after, he received word that Legolas himself had just entered the outskirts of the Woodland Realm, accompanied by a dwarf.

A dwarf.

Oh Valar.

What had Legolas done this time?

* * *

 **Poor Thranduil. Out of all the creatures on Middle Earth, Legolas had to go and bring a dwarf home? I can just imagine the look on the king's face when Legolas told his father he wanted to keep him.**

 ***author giggles as she imagines scenario***

* * *

 ***Legolas puppy dog eyes***

" **He followed me home, Ada can I keep him?"**

 ***Thranduil not able to hide his disgust***

" **No, definitely not son. Dwarves are dirty, noisy, ill-mannered creatures who are difficult to look after and should be avoided at all costs."**

 ***Legolas continues pleading***

" **I swear I will look after him myself, and keep him clean and quiet and made sure he doesn't disturb you! Please Ada, say yes."**

" **No."**

 ***puppy dog eyes that have a few tears glistening in them***

" **Adddddaaaaaaa. Please let me keep him, I won't ask you for anything ever again if you just say yes." *tear runs down cheek***

 ***Thranduil, not being able to bear seeing Legolas cry (even though he knows it is an act) relents***

" **Fine. But he better not get in my way or he goes."**

 ***Legolas throws his arms around Thranduil and hugs him in delight***

" **Thank you Ada! You are the best father in the world! You won't regret this, I promise."**

 ***Thranduil regretted it less than an hour later when he found a very naked and hairy dwarf bathing in his and Legolas's private bath house***

* * *

 ***giggles uncontrollably***

 **While this is not supposed to be taken as factual in any way, I can totally see it happening.**

 **Who else finds the thought of the look on Thranduil's face when he finds out Legolas is best friends with a dwarf funny? Please review and let me know!**


	21. Reunions, and Changes-part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **A huge thanks goes to Dola, SilverOnlyReads and AndurilofTolkien for reviewing last chapter!**

 **I have kept many book elements for this chapter and the following one. But please note that I have not actually read them. I do research events I want to write about extensively using wikias, so hopefully this is okay, but I do not claim to know anything at all about the books.**

 **Also, sorry for the delay in posting. During a final read through, the Plot Bunnies suddenly woke up from hibernation, found the reviews to the last chapter, and started frantically breeding. I had to wait until they were finished to post.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Reunions, and Changes-part 1**

 _Legolas returns home after the War of the Ring, taking Gimli with him._

Legolas smiled in awe as he slowly turned in a circle, taking in the change that had come over his forest home. The trees were no longer black, sinister and angry, but happily welcomed him, their branches light and friendly. Despite the change, Legolas could tell that they were still not fully recovered from the evil that had plagued them for millennium. It would take many, many more years for them to completely heal. In fact, it would take perhaps several hundred years for all Middle Earth to heal from the poison and evil that had been corrupting it for so long.

But in time the land would heal, and the darkness that once covered the world would be forgotten as the mortals gave birth to new generations, died, and generally moved on with their short lives. However, Legolas did not know if he would be here to see that happen. The sea-longing that had taken hold in him was very strong. Though he was currently resisting it, the prince knew he must eventually sail West, or risk dying from the longing.

Such was the fate of the elves. Immortality came at a price.

"Why the long face, laddie?"

Legolas looked over at Gimli. The dwarf was watching him with a knowing expression on his face, as he stomped happily along next to him.

"No, don't answer that question, let me guess. Two words. The Sea?"

Legolas sighed. The constant battle to not give into the longing was exhausting him.

"Yes. It still calls to me even now. I had hoped coming back to my home would quiet the voices, but it has not. Coming back here only serves to remind me how things have changed so much that they can never go back to how they use to be."

"Change is not a bad thing in itself, laddie. Keeps life from being boring. Surely, even you immortal tree-dwellers get bored doing the same things again and again?"

Legolas shrugged.

"Not if it's something that we enjoy. Because we are immortal, we have a different perspective on time, Mellon-nin. My father is rumoured to be one of the oldest elves on Middle Earth, and he certainly has not wasted too much time being bored."

"Ah yes. The infamous Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion. I can't wait to meet him. Are you sure that he won't throw me in his dungeons?"

"Yes." Legolas smiled at his friend. "I am. You saved my life Gimli, more than once. If there is a short-cut to establishing my father's friendship, it is through me. He will do literally anything for me if I ask. Trust me Master Dwarf. Tonight, you will be the guest of honour at a mighty wood elf feast. And, despite what people say, we do know how to have a good time. Life would indeed be grim if we didn't let loose occasionally. And we have much to celebrate right now."

Gimli nodded sagely.

"Yes. The War is won, Aragorn is King of Gondor, and a dwarf and an elf have become all but inseparable. These are indeed strange times we live in."

Legolas laughed in delight.

"Well spoken, master dwarf, well spoken. These are indeed strange times. Yet, they are also joyful ones."

Gimli did not disagree with his friend, and the two of them continued walking towards the Elvenking's palace at a leisurely pace. As much as Legolas would like to get there faster, he didn't want to make Gimli have to run to keep up with his long strides. As they came closer, they started meeting other elves, all of whom eyed Gimli with varying degrees of hostility and suspicion, but greeted the prince happily. All were Silvan, as most of the Silvan elves had moved back out into the forest to live in and among the trees like they'd used to as soon as the evil had retreated from their land.

However, as they drew even closer to the palace, the forest itself became very still and quiet. Indeed, it almost seemed to Legolas like it was nervous about something. The elf laid his hand on the bark of one of the trees, trying to get it to talk to him, but the tree clammed up and didn't respond to his questions. Frustrated, the prince dropped his hand and continued on his way with Gimli, who was looking at the trees with distrust as he kept one hand firmly on his axe. Legolas couldn't blame him. The trees _were_ behaving weirdly, even from a wood elf's perspective.

It wasn't until they were almost at the palace that Legolas finally found out what was going on. As they passed a tree that Legolas had known for many years, the prince stopped and put both hands on its bark. Finally, he was greeted with the answer as to what was happening.

Upon hearing what the tree had to say, Legolas made a pained face. Gimli was quick to notice.

"Why the sour expression, elf?"

"The trees aren't sure what to make of me bringing you here, mellon-nin. They are still recovering from being in darkness for so long, and are trying to decide if you are a threat to us or not. I've just assured them you aren't, but they are still very sceptical. I'm afraid living next to suspicious elves for millennium has had an impact on them."

Gimli frowned hard as he stepped closer to Legolas, and muttered something to himself about 'bloody trees and elves'. Legolas hid his amusement at the dwarf's actions with difficulty. Gimli was too amusing sometimes.

A few moments later, they rounded the final bend before the entrance bridge. Immediately, they were greeted by the sight of a cloaked warrior wearing the garb of a Captain of the Royal Guard standing there. The warrior bowed formally as they approached.

"Crown Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion. Welcome home."

Legolas stood there speechless for a second, before he finally managed to speak.

"Tirnel? Is that you?"

The other elf removed his hood as soon as the prince said his name, and the two life-long friends were suddenly running forward and embracing each other. No more words passed between them, as nothing more needed to be said. They had been together for long enough that they could sense each other's moods and thoughts if they concentrated hard enough. And right now, each of them was overjoyed to see the other. Legolas had never admitted it to anyone out loud, but Tirnel was like a brother to him. Despite the fact Tirnel was several decades older, they had still grown up together, gotten into trouble together, and eventually trained to be warriors together. They had fought together, eaten together, laughed together, and mourned the deaths of friends and comrades together. Legolas considered the other elf to be a very special honorary member of his family.

Eventually, the two elves broke apart. Tirnel then eyed Gimli uncertainly, before turning to Legolas and raising an eyebrow in a silent question. The Prince of Mirkwood smiled.

"Tirnel, I would like you to meet Gimli son of Glóin. Gimli saved my life more than once during our travels together, and I owe him more than I can ever repay. Gimli, this is Tirnel Hadronion, one of my oldest friends and a brother-in-arms. I hope that you will at least be civil to one another. You have both saved my life at some point, surely that will give you some common ground?"

Legolas was clearly uneasy as he looked from the grim expression of Tirnel to the blank one that Gimli was sporting. While he'd been looking forward to coming home, this he had _not_ been looking forward to. He feared how his people, and his father especially, would react to his befriending a dwarf. The Sindar elves still harbored an intense mistrust of the race; many were old enough to remember what the dwarves had done to King Thingol in Menegroth all those millennia ago. The Silvan elves did not have the same hate, but were naturally suspicious by nature, and typically followed their King's example. Thranduil was much loved and very highly regarded by the wood elves, though there was still the odd older one who disliked the Sindar's influence on the forest.

Tirnel still looked unsure of what to do, but he eventually nodded stiffly.

"Welcome, Gimli son of Gloin, to Eryn Lasgalen."

Legolas perked up upon hearing that.

"The Wood of Green Leaves? Is that what the forest is called now? When was it renamed?"

Tirnel shrugged as he nodded to the open doors behind him.

"I am sure that the King will bring you up to date on everything that has happened here in your absence in due time. You two undoubtedly have a lot to talk about. On that note, you'd best not keep him waiting any longer than necessary. These last few months have been like living with a caged balrog where Thranduil is concerned. Maybe you can convince him to finally calm down? He's been driving poor uncle and Galion up the walls."

Legolas grinned.

"More than usual?"

Tirnel did not smile back.

"Yes. And he's only gotten worse since the evil left our lands. I don't know what is wrong with him. Even uncle is stumped, and everyone is tiptoeing around him like they're walking on eggshells. Maybe you can root out what is making him so uptight?"

Now Legolas did not look so happy either. In fact, he looked quite worried to Gimli's eyes.

"I will certainly try. Where is he?"

"Probably waiting for you in the courtyard. That's where he was when I left."

Legolas immediately bolted away from them, sprinting over the bridge into the palace without looking back. Gimli frowned at the elf's retreating back.

"What's gotten into him?"

Tirnel smiled wryly at seeing the indignation and puzzlement on the dwarf's face at being so abruptly abandoned by his friend.

"It has been several months since he last saw his father. They are very close, and always have been. That is all. We'll give them a little while alone before we follow him. So, master dwarf, please tell me. How did you and Legolas come to be friends?"

Gimli eyed the elf with consideration, before nodding to himself and starting the tale.

"Well you see, it really started when dear Gandalf went and got himself killed by the balrog…"

Tirnel blinked.

"Mithrandir was killed by a BALROG! How, in the name of all that is both good and bad, did he manage _that_?"

* * *

"ADA!"

Lagoron watched as the streak that could only be Prince Legolas hurdled through the courtyard and into Thranduil's waiting arms. Father and son embraced with a ferociousness that would have given the orcs a run for their money. From where he was standing, Lagoron could see the sheer love on the king's face as he hugged his only child hard and whispered to him in a trembling voice.

"Legolas. You're finally home."

They stayed like that for some time, and soon the two elves started talking quietly to each other as they stood there. Lagoron busied himself with hurrying around organising Galion and the other servants to give the royals some privacy. Even though they were currently standing in the middle of the open courtyard were everyone could see them, and hear them if they went close enough. Once that thought occurred to him, Lagoron decided it was the thought that mattered.

Finally, Legolas and Thranduil stopped hugging the life out of each other, and Thranduil turned to Lagoron. Though he kept an arm wrapped firmly around his son's shoulders, Lagoron noted.

"My son and I are going to my private chambers to talk. We are not to be disturbed unless it's the end of the world. Also, organise a welcome home feast for my son for tonight. Only disturb us when everyone is ready to eat."

Lagoron bowed his head.

"Of course, my king. Will there be anything else?"

Before Thranduil could say anything, Legolas spoke up.

"Yes. I haven't come back alone, and my friend needs to be looked after. He is to be given a room in the royal guest wing, and afforded every privilege normally given to me, okay Lagoron? If I hear anything unsatisfactory from him regarding his treatment later…well, let's hope that I don't."

Lagoron schooled his expression, even as he internally cringed at the tone of the prince's voice. Oh Valar, he must be talking about the dwarf. Out of all the creatures on Middle Earth for Legolas to befriend, did it have to be a dwarf? And did Lagoron have to be given the task of looking after the creature, and making sure it was comfortable and satisfied? And since when did Legolas acquire a death-stare that rivalled his father's? Lagoron swallowed to calm himself down before he spoke in a carefully controlled voice.

"Of course, my prince. Consider it done. Anything else?"

There wasn't, and the Royals departed with their arms still around each other shortly afterwards, earning more than a few smiles from those who were nearby. Lagoron shook his head as he too smiled at the back of the retreating pair. However, his smile quickly faded as he contemplated his latest set of problems. Namely the dwarf.

He should have accepted Galion's invitation to run away with him to Valinor all those years ago. Even though Galion had never carried through with it himself (they were both far too loyal to Thranduil and his son to just up and leave), it was suddenly looking like a very attractive prospect.

It was certainly a more attractive prospect than dealing with dwarves. Lagoron cringed at the thought.

He really, really didn't like dwarves.

Looking around him, Lagoron suddenly realised he had bigger problems than having to deal with a dwarf.

In order to see that the dwarf was comfortable and happy, he first had to find said dwarf. Who did not appear to be in the vicinity at present.

Lagoron swallowed nervously.

He had better find that dwarf fast, or even Valinor may not be able to protect him from the ire of the Crown Prince.

* * *

When Tirnel strode into the courtyard not long afterwards with the dwarf in tow, Lagoron breathed a quiet sigh of relief before hurrying over to them.

"Tirnel! There you are. If you are looking for Prince Legolas, him and the King disappeared into their private rooms some time ago. They have asked not to be disturbed. I have been instructed to see that his friend is comfortable in his absence. And to organise a great feast for tonight; Galion is already on that, I hope. Now, where is this friend I am to look after?"

Tirnel gestured to Gimli, who was standing stoically behind him, as he stepped out of the way.

"Here he is. Uncle, this is Gimli, son of Glóin. Gimli, may I introduce you to Seneschal Lagoron, King Thranduil's second-in-command, and the real reason the elves of the Green Wood are so powerful."

Lagoron scowled at his nephew, even as he eyed off the dwarf with trepidation. Lagoron remembered all too well the trouble the band of dwarves had caused in this very palace not quite seventy years ago, and was not keen for a repeat performance. However, this dwarf was the prince's friend, and Legolas had made it abundantly clear before he'd left that they were to treat his friend like they would treat their prince. Despite this, it was still with great effort that Lagoron inclined his head towards the dwarf.

"Welcome, Gimli. Allow me to show you to your accommodation. Legolas has ordered that you be housed in the royal guest suite, which also has a private bathhouse attached if you would like to freshen up before tonight's feast. I know that traveling can be exhausting and dusty."

Gimli inclined his head respectfully.

"It certainly can be, and I accept your kind offer. Thank you, sirs."

Lagoron and Tirnel both looked stunned at the dwarf's show of good manners, and Gimli inwardly smirked. Shocking elves was so much fun, and for beings who lived thousands of years, they were _so_ gullible. It took a few moments for Lagoron to find his voice again, and when he did he sounded much more sure of himself then he had before.

"Splendid. Right this way, Master Dwarf."

* * *

Thranduil managed to wait until they were in private to question Legolas over his choice of close friends. He didn't want to ruin their reunion, but he had to know why Legolas was friends with a dwarf.

A dwarf! Thranduil shuddered at the thought.

Legolas noticed the shudder, and looked very nervous.

"Ada, you're not mad at me for bringing Gimli home, are you? I know you don't like dwarfs, but Gimli is different! He saved my life, and I don't know what I'd have done without his company these last few months. Please don't be mad at me!"

Not wanting to shut Legolas out, Thranduil let his emotions play over his face as he deliberated how to respond to that. He'd been deliberating how to handle this situation ever since he'd heard that his son was accompanied by a dwarf, and still hadn't resolved what to say or do. Legolas just stood there watching him apprehensively, waiting for him to say something.

"Why?"

Legolas blinked at the one word question.

"Pardon?"

"Why, out of all the creatures in Middle Earth, did it have to be a _dwarf_?"

Legolas had no answer for that, but he suspected it was more of a rhetorical question. Thranduil did not like dwarves; Legolas knew that better than most, and he also knew and understood the reasons why. But Legolas was not his father. While initially he hadn't gotten along with Gimli (a feeling that was mutual, they'd both come into this burdened with the hatred and prejudices their two races historically had for each other) they'd eventually been able to overcome them and became friends. But it had taken time, and being in life-or-death situations, for them to get to that. Nothing bonded you faster than almost dying together. Legolas knew this for a fact.

Thranduil, however, had not had the best experiences with dwarves during his long life. Considering these things, his feelings towards them were perfectly justified. Legolas knew that, but also hoped that his father would make an exception for Gimli, as Legolas could not imagine life without the dwarf now.

Thranduil finally sighed heavily and looked at Legolas with a resigned expression.

"I am not mad at you, but you have some explaining to do, _ion nîn_. For your sake, I will try and be civil with that dwarf, but you understand better than most why I feel the way I do. Just because you are friends with one, that does not change the way I feel towards them."

Thranduil momentarily looked lost before he focused on Legolas again.

"I will try to be civil, but don't ask me to be friends with it. That is all I can promise you."

The words were barely out of Thranduil's mouth before Legolas threw himself at his father, and hugged him hard.

"Thank you Ada! Thank you! I can't tell you how much it means to me!"

Now that the awkward conversation out of the way, Thranduil readily hugged him back. After a while, the king pulled back slightly and gazed at his son's face.

"Now, what exactly has happened to you since I sent you to Rivendell? It was only supposed to be a short diplomatic trip; next thing I heard you are were a journey across the whole of Middle Earth! Elrond's letter was quite vague on exactly what led to that. What, in the name of the Valar, _happened_ in Rivendell?"

* * *

 _ **Hadron – Thrower of Spears (Lagoron's brother and Tirnel's father)**_

* * *

 **Ha, ha. Elrond is about to be in Thranduil bad books. Even more than he already is.**

 **And at the eleventh hour (or the twenty-first chapter of a twenty-five chapter story to be more precise), Plot Bunnies have apparently decided that Lagoron is Tirnel's uncle. Whatever, Plot Bunnies, whatever.**

 **Reviews please?**


	22. Reunions, and Changes-part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Thankyou to all who reviewed last chapter! As many of you have also reviewed chapter 20, it is too difficult to list everyone here, but I love them all, and have sent a PM to everyone who was signed in to review. Also, I am honoured that people are still following, and have favourited, this story. Thankyou for the support everyone!**

 **Without saying anymore, I hope that you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 22: Reunions, and Changes-part 2**

 _A continuation of the same themes in the last chapter. In this one, Legolas and Thranduil primarily talk about the future, and how the events of the War of the Ring have changed their plans for it. Takes place later that night/early the next morning._

The feast and party that followed it to welcome Legolas back home was a huge success, and had even met with Gimli's approval. Initially, the wood elves had all been wary of the dwarf. Like Lagoron, they all remembered the trouble from seventy years ago. Galion, especially, had looked positively ill when he first saw Gimli. But, as soon as Legolas started talking about how Gimli had saved his life multiple times during their travels, and Gimli had started acting out some of the more outrageous bits of the stories, he quickly became the hero of the occasion as the elves gradually warmed up to him. It helped greatly in that their King was treating him like an honoured guest, even if they weren't directly speaking to each other.

The party went on for many hours, not ending until it was well past midnight. By that point, Gimli had been laughing and joking with the elves like they'd known each other forever, even though he was more than a little bit drunk. Somewhere along the way, he'd somehow managed to hit it off with Tirnel, which internally made the Prince cringe as he observed them trying to dance together (Though it was quite amusing to see the dwarf struggle to simply stay vertical while Tirnel dragged him around into complicated dance manoeuvres with undisguised glee. It only got even funnier when Braigneth and a couple of the others joined in. Legolas had eventually given in to their pestering and joined them as well). But Legolas had an uncomfortable feeling he would regret introducing Tirnel and Gimli one of these days, and resolved to keep an eye open from now on.

The party had eventually broken up, and Legolas and Tirnel had had to cart a very intoxicated dwarf back to his room. There was no way he would ever make it even half-way there on his own. Indeed, Gimli was snoring before they'd even arrived. Not knowing what else to do, they'd just dropped him on his bed and closed the door. He would most likely sleep for many hours yet. Though he'd been persuaded to water down the Dorwinion, it was still potent stuff, and he certainly hadn't drunk it sparingly, even watered down.

That had been several hours ago. Right now, father and son were cuddled together in the lounge that sat on Thranduil's private balcony. Thranduil had an arm around his son, and Legolas's head was resting on Thranduil's shoulder. Their other hands were entwined, and had been for some time now, as they gazed at the stars and talked quietly. Though they had spent most of the day together, they both still had a lot to catch up on.

Legolas had finally finished filling Thranduil in on most of what had happened to him in the months they'd been separated, and had heard about the fighting that had gone on to defend his home in his absence. Now that they were mostly caught up on past events, Legolas turned their conversation to more recent matters.

"Ada, I've heard disturbing reports since I got back that you are not behaving like you normally do. You have several people quite worried about you. What is wrong?"

Legolas looked at his father expectantly as he waited for a reply. When it came, it wasn't what he'd expected, not that he'd know what to expect.

"I will tell you what is affecting me, if you tell me how you got the sea-longing, and why you haven't mentioned it to me yet, _ion nîn_."

Legolas looked startled.

"How do you know about that?"

Thranduil rolled his eyes in a most un-kingly fashion.

"I am your father, Legolas, and have lived with you for a long time now. I know your moods almost as well as I know my own, and can normally tell when something is bothering you. And it is glaringly obvious to me that you have been hit by that accursed sea-longing. How did it happen?"

Legolas dropped his eyes and turned away to study the stars with great interest. Finally, he turned back to his father, who had been waiting patiently this whole time.

"It happened when Aragorn, Gimli and I fought the corsairs in Pelargir. I heard the gulls calling; and their voices went straight to my heart. I hadn't even beheld the sea yet when it happened. I am fighting it, as I don't want to leave Middle Earth. But I know that I will eventually have to either sail West, or risk dying from the longing."

Thranduil nodded; he didn't look terribly happy.

"Why did you not mention this to me before, Legolas?"

Legolas dropped his eyes and played with is fingers as he replied.

"I was hoping that coming back home would lessen the longing. It has not. But the truth is that I did not know how to broach the subject. I know that you don't want to leave Middle Earth, and I don't want to sail if that means I'll never see you again. Though I may eventually have no choice on the matter, I still never want to leave you Ada."

Legolas fell silent as he stared out into the night with sad eyes, even as a single tear run down his cheek. The thought of having to choose between staying with his father and potentially fading, or leaving his father behind while he went to Valinor, was more than he could bear right now. Noticing the tear, Thranduil gently wiped it away as he pulled Legolas in closer to him and hugged him.

"My poor son. Truly, it pains me to see you like this. But all hope is not lost for us staying together. You asked before what was wrong with me that I'm traumatising people more than usual. The answer to that question is very simple, _ion nîn_. Though I have never seen the sea nor heard the gulls call, a restlessness like yours has recently possessed me. For thousands of years, we've all had to stay strong and fight to prevent evil from taking over our lands. Now that we have won the War, and there is world-wide peace for perhaps the first time ever, I suddenly have nothing definitive left to do here. I may not stay in Middle Earth for longer than a few more centuries myself, Legolas. I am weary of his world and all its struggles, heartaches and hardships. Against my will, I long for a peace and tranquillity that will never exist if I stay here. In fact, if I stay here, I too will eventually fade away into nothing. I can feel it deep in my soul, just waiting for me to give up."

Legolas looked alarmed.

"But you're not giving up, are you?"

Thranduil shook his head as he gently squeezed his son's hand.

"No, Legolas, I would sail before I would give up. Do not worry yourself about that."

Legolas looked at his father with hope shining in his eyes.

"Does that mean we may be able to sail together one day? That I will be able to yield to the longing that is eating at me, and yet not leave you behind?"

Thranduil smiled wryly.

"Quite possibly, though one of us may sail before the other is ready to. I've never wanted to sail West before, so I still do not know what to do. But the Valar have their own thoughts on the matter, like they do with everything, so eventually I won't have a choice if I don't want to fade. However, my work here is not done just yet. I've led the Wood Elves, both Sindar and Silvan, as their king for over an Age now, Legolas. I need to make sure those who don't want to sail West are fine here before I potentially leave them forever."

"So does that mean you will sail?"

Thranduil sighed.

"If you are looking for a yes or no answer, then yes. I will sail eventually, Legolas, I just don't know when. But know this: whether I sail before, with, or after you, one day we will be together in the Undying Lands. You won't be without me forever, _ion nîn_ , so there is no need to grieve about something that will never come to pass."

Overcome with joy, Legolas hugged his father hard, tears of happiness and relief streaming down his face. Thranduil embraced him back; his own eyes were suspiciously wet. He did not know when he would sail, but just the decision that he would go one day eased the hollow feeling in his chest. And knowing that he wouldn't be without Legolas when he did go meant he could be at peace with his decision for the first time since the longing had entered him.

Father and son went back to gazing at the stars in silence, enjoying each other's presence. It was sometime before Legolas broke that silence, and when he did his voice sounded strained.

"Ada. There is something else that I would like to discuss with you, and it is very important."

Legolas sat up and faced his father with a very serious expression on his face. While their whole conversation had been serious, Thranduil immediately knew this was very important to his son, and gave Legolas his full attention.

"What is it you want to discuss, _ion nîn_?"

Legolas took a deep breath before he spoke slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully.

"I would like, with your permission, to move away from here and establish an elven settlement in Ithilien. The forests there need healing and care, and it is closer to the sea then we are here. Just being near it helps to ease my sea-longing, and makes it more bearable. It is also close to Gondor and Aragorn, and I have a feeling that, due to Aragorn's new Queen, elves are going to become more common in the city. But they will all still need a place to get away from the humans and reconnect with nature sometimes, and an elven settlement in Ithilien will provide that."

Thranduil nodded slowly.

"I heard that Arwen had chosen to be a mortal woman, and finally married Aragorn to become the Queen of Gondor. I feel for her poor father, losing his only daughter completely like that. I often wonder what pleasure the Valar get out of torturing us with all these choices and longings."

Legolas just sighed in response.

"Yeh, I sometimes wonder as well. So, back to our conversation, do I have your blessing to leave here? I will take with me any elves who wish to go, but will come back and visit you often. And you must come and see us, especially when the forests of Ithilien start recovering. They are very sad and damaged at present, but will be beautiful again one day. I'll make sure of that."

Thranduil looked at the hope and light shining in his son's eyes, and found he couldn't say no to Legolas's request. As much as it pained him to lose his son to the wider world yet again, Thranduil nodded his head once.

"If that is what you truly want, then you have my blessing. I will remain here, and work with those who don't go with you to Ithilien to rebuild Eryn Lasgalen. And then, one day when I am satisfied with all that I've done here, I will sail West. I hope when that day comes, that you will be with me."

Legolas beamed as he hugged Thranduil hard in excitement.

"Thank you Ada! You have no idea how much this means to me. Traveling first with the fellowship, and then with Aragorn and Gimli, has made me realise just how large the world out there is. I long to explore it more before I leave Middle Earth, and living in Ithilien will enable me to do that more easily than here. Thank you, Ada. Thank you!"

Thranduil sighed as he rested his cheek on Legolas's head and wrapped his arms around his son.

Over the centuries, Thranduil had often wondered if the only reason Legolas stayed in the Woodland Realm was because he did not want to leave them alone to fight the darkness. He'd never said anything to the prince about it, suspecting that even if that was the case Legolas would probably deny it. But Thranduil had seen the longing in his son's eyes when Mithrandir had told him stories of his own travels, and remembered how Legolas had quickly volunteered to ride to Rivendell to deliver the news of Gollum's escape. Despite the fact it was not good news he was to deliver; Legolas had still been thrilled to go.

Thranduil hadn't wanted to send his only son as an emissary, but had eventually being talked into it by Lagoron, who'd pointed out it would be a good experience for Legolas. His son had certainly gotten lots of experience in the months since then, and had grown up in a way that both gladdened and terrified his father. Just like Arwen, he was now making his own decisions about how he wanted to live his life. Thranduil was secretly proud of his son's determination, but at the same time this new-found independence saddened the king in many ways. Especially as it meant he would not be able to see his son very often now. Thranduil knew they would both be very busy as they set about doing the tasks they'd set themselves to do before they left Middle Earth forever.

Still, it wasn't like he was losing Legolas forever. Thranduil was strong, and could handle a few centuries of not living with his son if it meant he was happy. Besides, thanks to the sea-longing, they would eventually be able to spend eternity together. That was pretty much a given now.

Thranduil internally frowned at that thought.

Maybe the Valar _did_ know what they were doing.

* * *

 **Plot Bunnies decided that Thranduil is affected by the sea-longing, despite the fact he's never seen the sea. And then the two royals got all emotional on me, and made me reach for the tissue box. And then we get Thranduil's inner turmoil. For the record, this chapter was originally part of the last one and intended to be a heart-warming reunion between father and son. Over five thousand words later across two chapters, it is practically a complete story in itself. I hate Plot Bunnies sometimes.**

 **Don't laugh, it's true.**

 **Reviews are loved more than Plot Bunnies could ever be!**


	23. The Truth

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Thanks to Hawaiichick, aficionada-de-libros, Dola, Freeranger, Coffeeranger, and MeAndNotYou1001 (guest) for your reviews. They are most appreciated, and encouraged me to post this chapter in a timely manner. Only two more to go after this!**

 _ **MeAndNotYou1001: I received your review, but sadly the site seems to have eaten it somewhere in transit. It hasn't turned up in the main reviews in spite of my approving it, and I can't find it. But I have it on email, so thankyou! I'm glad that you like these stories, and I hope the rest of this one is just as good.**_

 **These events take place very early Fourth Age. Due to the generally accepted canonical timeline not working properly for what I want to do, I will be extremely vague about time periods from here on out.**

 **I know that many of you wanted Legolas and Thranduil to sail together, but that was never the plan. They both will sail, but Thranduil left Middle Earth well before Legolas did. You will understand why later. It makes for more of an emotional impact. *conspiring grin as author plots to make readers howl with grief (and/or joy)***

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 23: The Truth**

 _The truth about Legolas is finally revealed._

Thranduil stood at the bow of the ship, and watched as the shores of Valinor appeared on the distant horizon. It had been with a heavy heart that he had finally decided to sail West, once he was satisfied that the wood elves who wanted to remain on Middle Earth would be fine without him. However, his decision to sail was made all the harder by Legolas's refusal to accompany him to the Undying Lands. Wistfully, Thranduil thought back on the last conversation he'd had with his son at the Grey Havens.

 _Flashback:_

" _But my son, with me gone you will become one of the last elves still living in Middle Earth. Not many ships are sailing anymore. Please, come with me now, I don't want you lose you."_

 _Legolas had smiled sadly._

" _You won't lose me Ada. I will come eventually, but I am not ready to sail just yet. Not while Aragorn is King of Gondor, and Gimli yet lives. I will sail one day, the sea has been calling to me for a while, but the time is not yet right for me to leave here. But you go Ada, and rest assured that I will follow when I am ready. Even if I must make my own boat to do so, you_ _ **will**_ _see me again! I promise."_

 _Legolas embraced his father, who was almost weeping at his son's words. His son had grown up all right, and it was far too soon for his father. Despite the fact Legolas was three thousand years old, had survived one of the biggest and most brutal Wars in Middle Earth's history while fighting on the frontlines, and had more than proved himself to be a responsible adult, he was still Thranduil's baby. He would always be Thranduil's baby._

 _The two elves finally broke apart and, without another word (as there was nothing left to say), Thranduil boarded the ship that was waiting for him. As they cast off, Thranduil had turned to look at his son one last time. Legolas had smiled at him as he'd spoken, his words so soft that Thranduil felt more than heard them._

" _Farewell, Ada, but it is not goodbye. We will be reunited one day on the shores of Valinor, just like the heroes in the stories you used to read to me when I was but an elfling."_

 _End Flashback._

"My King, how are you feeling?"

Thranduil was pulled out of his thoughts by Lagoron, who had appeared beside him at some point wearing his usual concerned expression. He'd worn that expression almost permanently ever since Thranduil had finally decided to sail west, and Legolas had decided to stay in Middle Earth for a while longer. Thranduil knew Lagoron worried about what leaving Legolas behind would do to him, but he did not need to. Legolas would follow them when he felt the time was right for him to do so. While the king was sad, and more than a little depressed, to be parted from his son for a time, he took comfort in the knowledge that it would not be forever.

Trying to continue to think on that positive note, Thranduil looked on the bright side. He would soon see Tathardis again. It had been three thousand years since her death now, and Thranduil still missed her fiercely every day. He was looking forward to being reunited with her.

And meeting their son, who would be around the same age as Legolas now was, for the first time.

Thranduil's face took on a pained expression at that thought. That would be an interesting meeting. But, whatever happened, he was determined not to forget Legolas, who was also his son. He just hoped his wife and unknown son would understand.

"I will be okay, Lagoron. How much longer until we land?"

* * *

Lagoron looked around at the group that had gathered to meet them as he stepped off the ship and onto the shores of Valinor next to his wife. While outwardly he was calm, his heart was racing at the thought of seeing his twin brother Hadron, who had been slain in a fierce battle against the spiders of Mirkwood almost two thousand years prior. Providing he wasn't still in the Halls of Mandos that is. Lagoron eagerly scanned the many happy faces surrounding them, recognising many of his friends who had fallen in battle over the ages, even as he searched for one in particular. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and smiled as his twin stepped forward and embraced his brother.

All around them there was happy laughter and talking as friends and relatives greeted and embraced those they had not seen for years. Theirs was one of the last ships that would come from Middle Earth. With the departure of the elven leaders from the settlements of Rivendell and Lothlórien some years prior, the number of elves left on Middle Earth had swiftly dwindled as more and more of them sailed west or retreated so deep into the forests that no one could find them.

Legolas, and the few elves left with him in Ithilien, were practically the only elves still living openly on Middle Earth. Lagoron wasn't sure if he should include Elrond's daughter on that list, as, despite her elven heritage, she had chosen to live the life of a mortal. Either way, the time of the elves was well and truly over in Middle Earth.

With one arm still around Hadron, Lagoron greeted old friends and comrades alike, even as Faemes embraced the older sister she had not seen since the sacking of Doriath. Looking around them for his king, Lagoron eventually spied Thranduil standing off to the side. He too, was locked in an embrace with a slim elf-maiden, his face buried in her shoulder, his white-blond hair mixing with her long dark brown locks. After a moment, the dark-haired elf turned to look at the seneschal with green eyes and a smile that was achingly familiar.

It was Tathardis, late Queen of Greenwood the Great and Thranduil's wife. Lagoron inclined his head briefly in respect at her before turning back to greeting elves he had not seen since the First Age.

Thranduil and Tathardis deserved their privacy. They had not seen each other for three thousand years, and had a lot to catch up on.

* * *

Tathardis led her husband through her garden, pointing out different plants to him, and chatting about her life in Valinor, as she waited patiently for Thranduil to reveal whatever was troubling him. Even after all these years of separation, she found she could still read him like an open book.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Thranduil stopped and turned around to look deep into her eyes.

"Tathardis, my love, I must ask you. Where is our son?"

The woodland queen smiled in something akin to amusement. But that emotion quickly turned to sadness as she regarded her husband with a gentle expression.

"You mean you do not know? Oh, my dear heart, what did they do to you? He has obviously not yet sailed from Middle Earth, but I know in my heart that he will when the time is right."

Thranduil stopped dead, and just stared at his wife as he slowly put all the pieces together. Finally, the meaning of her words sunk in, and Thranduil sat down rather heavily on a nearby bench.

"You mean…Legolas…he's…How? He was killed!"

Tathardis nodded as she sat down next to her husband, and placed a soft hand on his arm.

"Yes, he was. When I arrived in Mandos's Halls that day, he was already there waiting for me. However, the joy of seeing my infant son was soon dampened by the knowledge that you had just lost two people that you cared about more than anything in the world. I knew that you would fall into grief and eventually fade, and I could not let that happen. Not so long as there was a slim chance that I could stop it. I had to end up petitioning not only Mandos, but Manwë himself to convince them to release our son's soul and send him back to you. Which they eventually agreed to do, though apparently telling you the truth was not something they deemed necessary. Almost three thousand years have passed since then, and you seriously never knew that he is our son? Who did you think he was?"

Thranduil sighed and shook his head, a single tear running down his fair cheek.

"I never gave it much thought after I adopted him. He was always my son in every way that it mattered. I think that I suspected something like what you just told me, he has my own father's eyes, but I did not know that Legolas is my true son. _Our_ true son. Who is now not here."

Thranduil was too overcome with emotion to say anymore, and instead buried his face in his hands as he wept like he had not done since he'd lost his wife. Tathardis continued to sit there comfortingly beside him, holding his hand and letting him cry into her shoulder. Sometime later she spoke softly, the gentle tone of her voice reminding him of Legolas. Thranduil wondered how he had not realised the truth before. Legolas was _just_ like Tathardis in so many little ways.

"But he will come home to us one day, my heart. I can feel it in my soul."

Thranduil sighed heavily, and when he was able to speak again, he nodded.

"Yes, he will come. The sea-longing has tormented him for years, and he promised me he will sail West when his ties to the world of mortals are gone. I still can't believe that my son is best friends with a dwarf!"

Tathardis chuckled softly.

"Is he really?"

Thranduil nodded glumly.

"Yes, he is. Inseparable they are. I will admit that this dwarf is better mannered then most, but a dwarf is still a dwarf."

Tathardis was grinning at her husband's obvious mixed feelings regarding their son's best friend.

"At least he is happy. And there is no need for you to be sad about leaving him behind either. We must just be patient until he sails. Legolas. Greenleaf. That is a lovely name you gave him, very Silvan. Do not cry dear heart, for you will see him again. I have waited three thousand years to see my son and hold him in my arms like I did before he was sent back to you. What are a couple of hundred more, especially when you have eternity to spend together? Especially now that we have each other back? He will come dear; we just have to be patient."

Thranduil smiled through his tears as he gazed into his wife's gentle green eyes.

"They call the Noldor elves wise, but your wisdom surpasses them all in my eyes. You are right, my love. We must just wait until Legolas joins us, which will not be long. And when he does arrive, we will both be waiting on the shore to greet him. And then finally, _finally_ , our family will be complete for the first time ever."

Tathardis smiled gently. She looked so much like Legolas, that Thranduil did not understand how he had not figured it out before.

"Yes, it will."

* * *

 **Okay, I love Tathardis. I might have a new favourite character. Is it wrong for an author to fall in love with their own OC that they killed back in chapter 1?**

 **Also, if anyone is interested, Hadron is Tirnel's father and apparently also Lagoron's twin brother. Really, Plot Bunnies? Twins?**

 **Reviews are loved, and I would also like to know what you want to see when the whole family is finally reunited! Especially as I haven't figured out the perfect ending to the final chapter yet. I would love some help. So please, do us all a favour and feed my Plot Bunnies with a review.**


	24. Sailing West

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Thank you to Whyamiobsessed, gginsc, Dola, aficionada-de-libros, and Hawaiichick for reviewing last chapter!**

 **This chapter is very short, but I felt it was necessary to have this conversation leading up to the finale. Plus, who doesn't like Legolas angst? And the Plot Bunnies really like Gimli for some reason. He must be feeding them candy when my back is turned or something. That would explain their energy.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 24: Sailing West**

 _Fourth Age 120._

Legolas stood at the bow of his ship as it glided through the sparkling water, heading into the west. To the land where his father now dwelt, along with most of his elven friends. And probably his birth parents.

That thought was enough to put a damper on the elf's otherwise happy mood. Thranduil was his father, and had been for over three thousand years now. Legolas was overjoyed at the thought of them being reunited, but he did not know what else the Undying Lands would bring. He'd never had a mother figure, and Legolas wanted desperately to meet his mother, so hoped that she would be there. Even though he'd been seemingly abandoned at birth, he knew that she loved him. Legolas had felt the calm and gentle presence of a woman who had to be her in his mind for all of his life, giving him strength to survive through some very hard times. He'd never told Thranduil of this fact; initially because he did not know how to broach the subject, and later, because he'd decided to keep it a secret. While Legolas loved Thranduil dearly, he had ultimately decided there was no reason for his father to know about this bond. That was between him and his mother.

"Why the serious look laddie? I thought elves were supposed to be happy to sail west. But, you have stood there staring out at nothing for close to a day now, and are showing none of the merriment the others are to finally be sailing to Valinor."

Legolas turned and regarded the speaker, tipping his head slightly to one side as he did so. Gimli the dwarf stared right back at him, obviously waiting for an answer to his question. Finally, Legolas sighed.

"I am happy Gimli, but my heart is also burdened. I know not what awaits me in Valinor."

Gimli gave one slow blink as he processed this, tugging absently at his grey beard. Gimli was not a young dwarf anymore, and it showed.

"But your father is already there, is he not? And possibly your mother? Why aren't you rejoicing in that fact, rather than moping about? If I've learnt something about elves during all these years of putting up with you, it's that you tree-dwellers never stay still, and love a chance to have fun. Sad does not suit you."

Legolas smiled fondly at his only surviving mortal friend. When Aragorn had passed on a few months earlier, Legolas had been ready to pack up and sail west almost immediately. The sea-longing that had possessed him all those years ago had only grown stronger with time, until he was almost literally sick with the need to sail. However, two things had kept him anchored in Middle Earth once Aragorn was gone.

Gimli, and Arwen.

Elrond's daughter would never sail West to join her elven kin. She'd accepted that she would die a mortal's death long ago when she'd forsaken her immortality. Despite that, Legolas had not wanted to leave his mortal cousin and close friend to her fate all alone. For, even though Arwen had chosen to be mortal, she still had the heart of an elf. As soon as Legolas had raised the subject with the Queen of Gondor however, she'd told him to go. Arwen knew her time on Middle Earth was almost up, and that her existence was reaching its end. She wanted to spend the last few months of her mortal life alone in what remained of Lothlórien, the place where her and Aragorn had fallen in love and pledged themselves to each other. She wanted to remember all the good times they'd had together, while she waited to die and join him in the place where all mortals are said to go after death.

Legolas respected her wishes, but there was still the problem of Gimli. Legolas was not about to leave the aging dwarf alone, and so had resigned himself to wait on Middle Earth a while longer. Even though the thought of losing his last surviving heart brother to death was very hard for the immortal elf. Even after all these years of being friends with mortals, he still had a hard time grasping the concept of death. Aragorn and Arwen's love for each other must indeed have been stronger then he could comprehend, Legolas thought. That was the only explanation he could come up with to help himself understand how Arwen could face death all alone as a mortal woman so calmly.

Still, that did not help him where Gimli was concerned.

It really was a problem; one that Legolas did not know what to do about. Then Tirnel had suggested to Legolas (after they'd had a bit too much to drink one night) that he take the dwarf with them. He'd meant it as a joke (can you imagine the faces of the other elves to see _a dwarf_ in Valinor? Elu Thingol would have a heart attack!), but Legolas had later thought it over seriously, and realised that it wasn't such a bad idea. He was not about to leave Gimli to die alone in Middle Earth, yet he desperately wanted to sail. Tirnel's idea said in jest could be the solution to Legolas's current problems. Legolas had quickly made up his mind and, after getting Gimli to agree to come with them, (Legolas suspected the thought of seeing the Lady Galadriel one last time had something to do with that) he'd began building a ship to transport himself, Gimli, and the few other elves still living in Ithilien to Valinor.

The land where his father dwelt.

Legolas looked at Gimli again as he pondered how to answer his friends question.

"Ay, my father is there. As for my mother…I do not know."

Gimli's dark brown eyes bored into the elf prince's blue ones.

"Something tells me there is more to the tale then what you are telling me laddie. Why wouldn't your mother be there?"

Legolas sighed.

"I do not know. Gimli, can I tell you a secret? I don't want anyone else to know, at least not yet."

The dwarf looked at his fair friend with concern.

"You can tell me anything you like laddie. If you don't want others to know, then they won't hear it from me."

Legolas looked over his shoulder to see what the other elves were doing, but they were all far enough away that no one should overhear what he was about to tell Gimli. Even with sensitive elven hearing.

"Gimli. Thranduil is not my birth father. He adopted me when I was a baby and made me his son and heir. I was abandoned in the forests at birth; I do not know who my birth parents are, or rather, who they _were_. No trace was ever found of them, though Lagoron did look. So, you see Gimli, while I am overjoyed to see my father again, I am nervous over potentially meeting my _other_ parents. I just don't know what to do _mellon-nin_." (my friend)

The almost bald dwarf tugged thoughtfully at his still thick beard as he thought about what Legolas had just told him. It seemed almost too fanciful a tale to be true, but Gimli knew that the elf was not lying to him. There was no reason for him to lie about something this serious.

Besides, Legolas was a terrible liar. He could pull off the innocent act to perfection, and delighted in fooling people with it. But he was hopeless at straight up lying. At least to those who knew him well.

"Okay, I can see why you might be nervous about meeting them. But did you ever think that they might have had no choice in the matter?"

Legolas sighed.

"I have never really thought about it Gimli, so no. Thranduil is my father as far as I am concerned. I've never wanted another one."

"And he obviously loves you like you were his own son. Did he ever have any other children?"

Legolas nodded as he returned his gaze towards the west. Always west.

"The king had just lost his wife and unborn son to an orc attack a few hours before he found me. He told me he had almost faded from grief, but I apparently saved his life by giving him something to live for. Thranduil is my father in every way that it matters, Gimli. He cares about me and loves me no matter what, as do I him."

Gimli's reluctant respect and admiration for the Elvenking went up several notches after hearing what Legolas had to say. Anyone who would take in an abandoned baby without a second thought, and raise him like his own son, automatically earned his respect. Children were precious and counted as a blessing among the dwarves, and the elves as well it would seem.

"Well laddie, know that no matter what happens when we arrive, I will be there by your side. I might be bald and have grey hairs, but I've still got some fight left in me. Any elf who tries to do anything to you will have me and my axe to reckon with. And, if Thranduil is as protective as he seems, I am sure he will not allow anyone to hurt you either. You will be fine."

Legolas actually smiled at the optimism in the dwarf's voice.

"Thank you, _mellon-nin_. I know that I am probably over-thinking it, but the sea has called to me for so long now that I no longer can think straight. I have wanted to sail so badly for so long. The thought of finally arriving in the Undying Lands, only to face rejection by complete strangers, is not a reassuring one."

The dwarf looked very pleased with himself that he'd managed to help his elf friend sort out his problems.

"No problem laddie, no problem at all. Sometimes, all these elf problems need is some input from a wise dwarf."

Legolas gave the smug looking Gimli a glare, but it didn't have any heat in it. Instead, after a few intense moments of them staring at each other, the elf smiled.

"I can't deny you have helped me this time, _mellon-nin_. And just in time as well. I can see what can only be the shores of Valinor in the far distance. We are almost home."

* * *

 **One more chapter to go, and then we are done. I am almost at the end. That is a scary thought when I've been with this story for a good six months now. Reviews please?**


	25. A King's True Son

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story** **is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.**

 **Thankyou to Whyamiobsessed, Guest1345, Andy the willow tree, Dola, SilverOnlyReads, Hawaiichick and CoffeeRanger for reviewing last chapter.**

 **Here it is. The moment we have all been waiting for, the resolution of all the conflict and heartache in this story. I just hope I did it justice. The Plot Bunnies were very demanding with what they would let me write.**

 ***TISSUE WARNING***

 **You will need it. I do not recommend reading this chapter when around other people, unless you are prepared to explain why you are bawling your eyes out. And then laughing uncontrollably directly afterwards. And then crying again. This chapter is a roller-coaster of emotions. You have been warned.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 25: A King's True Son**

 _In which a loving family is finally united on the golden shores of Valinor, three thousand years after they were separated._

It had been over one hundred years, and still Thranduil was waiting for his son, his _true_ son, to arrive in Valinor.

Every day, he would walk down to the shoreline and gaze out over the sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of the grey ship that would be carrying Legolas. Most days, Tathardis would join him. They would sit on the sand, arms around each other, as they watched the horizon for hours. A handful of ships had come from Middle Earth over the years since Thranduil had arrived, but Legolas had yet to be on one. It was harder for Thranduil than it was for Tathardis, who had already spent three thousand years separated from her son. She was prepared to patiently wait a couple of hundred more to see him again; Thranduil not so much. But he tried to be patient. Legolas would come one day, and, when he arrived, their family would finally be complete.

It had become something of a ritual over the years, to walk down to the shore and gaze into the horizon. So much so that, when the ship finally appeared, it took Thranduil a few moments to register what he was seeing. At the same time, he became aware of another feeling.

This was the ship. The ship that was carrying Legolas. Thranduil just knew it.

His true son had finally come home.

* * *

Legolas stepped off the ship to be met with much clapping and cheering from the elves who had gathered there to greet them. There was not one elf there who had not heard of what he'd done on Middle Earth during the War of the Ring, and he had turned into a kind of celebrity as a result. Scanning the crowd quickly, Legolas was slightly disappointed when he didn't immediately see his father among the gathered elves. However, before he could contemplate the matter further, the happy chattering around him all but stopped as Gimli nimbly jumped off the boat. The sight of a dwarf in Valinor caused more than a few eyebrows to raise and everyone to fall silent, before a cheerful voice was heard.

"Legolas Greenleaf! And Gimli, son of Glóin! It is good to see you both again! Welcome to Valinor!"

Legolas smiled widely.

"Mithrandir!"

The wizard smiled in return as the prince hugged him hard. Once they broke apart, Gimli nodded stiffly at the wizard, though his wide smile ruined the stern look he was aiming for.

Legolas missed hearing what they said to each other, for it was at that moment that he finally spied his father. Running over to Thranduil, Legolas met open arms that quickly closed around him once he reached them. Father and son hugged each other like they would never let go again, completely oblivious to what was happening around them as they made up for lost time. Over a century's worth of lost time.

Finally, Thranduil stepped back and looked Legolas in the eye, even as his arm remained firmly wrapped around his son.

"Legolas, it is truly great to see you again. However, before we go any further, there is someone that I would like you to meet."

Thranduil was very nervous as he turned around to face his wife, turning Legolas around with him. The prince hesitated as soon as he laid eyes on Tathardis, who had been standing quietly behind her husband this whole time, watching them. His normally wide blue eyes grew even wider, and he suddenly looked like an elfling again as he stared at her uncertainly and let go of Thranduil.

Then, before Thranduil could do or say anything to explain the situation, Legolas said one word.

"Naneth?"

It was clearly a question, but Tathardis could no longer wait. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her son. Burying her face in his shoulder, breathing in the fresh scent of his hair, she started weeping with joy. Finally, _finally_ , she was once again able to hold her son in her arms. Even though he was over three thousand years old now, he was still her baby boy. He would always be her baby. Even if her and Thranduil managed to have other children one day, Legolas would always be special.

Her son initially stiffened, before relaxing into her embrace and hugging her back.

"Naneth."

The words were whispered in her ear, but this time there was no question to them, even as he clung to her like his life depended on it. Tathardis smiled through her tears.

"Yes, _ion nîn_. I am your Naneth. And I have waited a long time for this moment. We all have."

* * *

Thranduil watched his son and wife embrace each other with a look of pure bliss on his face. Finally, his family was complete again. And this time, nothing would ever break them apart. There were no wars in Valinor to fight in; no enemies that wanted to kill them. There was just peace and love. And happiness, now that Legolas had finally joined them.

After giving Tathardis and Legolas some time to hug, Thranduil wrapped his arms around the two people who mattered more to him than anyone else ever had. The former King of the Woodland Realm gently tucking a loose strand of his son's golden-blond hair back behind his ear, before kissing his wife on the tip of _her_ ear. He had never felt this happy and at peace before.

Legolas was watching his father out of the corner of his eye as he hugged his mother. His eyes widened in shock when he registered that Thranduil had not only embraced them both, but also kissed his mother's ear. Elf ears were a very personal area, and for Thranduil to openly kiss his mother there could mean any number of things…

Legolas swallowed a few times to make sure his voice would not break, before he forcing himself to speak.

"We need to talk, Ada. Naneth."

Thranduil nodded, even though he did not let go of either of them. And he was not planning to let go for some time.

"Yes, we do. Come, we can go to your mother's garden to do it. No one will disturb us there."

Legolas quickly looked around to make sure Gimli was okay before he left the dwarf alone on the shore. Legolas smiled fondly as he watched his bald grey-bearded friend bow low with an adoring look on his face as the Lady Galadriel seemed to float over to him, smiling warmly at the dwarf in welcome.

Gimli was currently fine; Legolas could see to him later. Right now, there were more pressing questions that he wanted answers to. Legolas turned back to his father and nodded.

"Okay."

* * *

A little while later, the three of them sat together in the garden. Tathardis still had an arm around Legolas, who was cuddling up to her. Even though Legolas was taller and broader in stature than his mother, since hugging her on the shore, he just wanted to cuddle up to her and never let go. Thranduil sat on his other side, not hugging him, but being a comforting and familiar presence to the prince. Or ex-prince. Legolas wasn't sure what the rules were here in Valinor regarding what status they had held on Middle Earth, but found that he did not really care. He had his father and his mother back, and that was all that mattered to him.

Still…

Legolas turned to Thranduil, even as he continued to cuddle into Tathardis.

"You kissed my mother on her ear. Elves do not touch each other's ears unless they are very close to each other. Why?"

While the question was vague, Thranduil immediately knew what Legolas was asking.

"That's because she is my wife, Legolas. I don't think I ever said much about her to you, but her name is Tathardis. She is also your birth mother."

Legolas digested that information in silence. After what seemed like an age to Thranduil, he spoke in a soft voice.

"If she is my true mother, that means that I am your true son, yet you never told me. Why?"

Thranduil's shoulders drooped at the tone of his son's voice. It was more than slightly accusing, though Legolas probably didn't mean it that way. He was just confused, and wanted answers. Thranduil couldn't fault him for that. The problem was, he didn't have a clue where to start.

Tathardis came to his rescue, as she had done so often over the years before she was taken from him.

"Legolas, your father did not know you were his true son until he arrived here, and I told him. It would seem that no one on Middle Earth knew the truth. For whatever reason, the Valar decided to keep it a secret. Why, I do not know."

Legolas frowned at Tathardis, sitting up straighter and tipping his head to the side in consideration.

"But why would they keep it a secret? Actually, what do the Valar have to do with this?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. Tathardis sighed softly and wrapped her arms comfortingly around him yet again.

"Everything. We would not be here having this conversation if not for them. However, you asked for an explanation, therefore I shall start at the beginning. Thranduil tells me you know the basics of what happened when the orcs attacked us. Therefore, you know that you were killed outright during the attack, and that I followed a few hours later." Tathardis waited for Legolas to nod before continuing. "So, I will start the story with my arrival in Mandos's Halls."

"You were already there waiting for me. You were so tiny and helpless, and a hand-full even back then. I am told you refused to settle down until I got there and held you. As soon as I picked you up, you promptly smiled at me and went to sleep. I was overjoyed to have you with me; you were a huge comfort after what had just happened. But, as soon as I got over my initial joy, I remembered my husband, who was now all alone in the world. I knew that Thranduil would not survive long with both me and his eagerly waited for son gone, and I couldn't let him fade from grief without at least trying to stop it. So, I thought long and hard about what I could do. Eventually, I made a decision. Even though I didn't want to give you up, Thranduil needed you more than I did."

Legolas's eyes grew larger as Tathardis continued talking.

"Therefore, I petitioned Mandos to release your soul and send you back to your father. Eventually, permission was granted. You were released, given a new body, and sent back to Middle Earth to your father a few hours after the events."

Legolas frowned.

"But why don't I remember any of that? I should be able to remember everything since I was conceived, but my memory is a complete blank until Ada found me that day. Why is that?"

Tathardis sighed.

"I do not know. But, if the Valar are powerful enough to send someone back from the dead, they are probably powerful enough to erase their memories as well. Perhaps that was the price they took for my defiance of them and the established rules; I don't know. I was unaware that neither of you knew the truth before your father told me what happened when he first arrived here."

Tathardis went quiet as she thought about the implications of her words. She had indeed chosen a kind and caring husband, that he would adopt a seemingly abandoned baby as his son and heir without a second thought. Though Thranduil had told her that, from the first time he'd laid eyes on the tiny elfling, he'd always felt an unexplainable connection to Legolas.

A connection that now made perfect sense. They were father and son.

Legolas was obviously thinking along similar lines, as he was looking at Thranduil, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Well, that explains the bond we've always had."

Thranduil nodded, as he finally gave into temptation and put an arm around his son.

"Yes, it does. From the first time I laid eyes on you, I felt a connection. I should have realised that you were my son a long time ago. The facts were right there in front of me the whole time, but I was too blind to see them. I'm sorry, Legolas."

Legolas frowned and narrowed his eyes, pulling away from Tathardis to look at his father.

"There is nothing to forgive you for, so why are you sorry, Ada?"

"For not figuring it out sooner. All these years, you've thought you weren't my son."

Legolas interrupted his father before the King went any further.

"I am your son, Ada. I have always been your son. From the time when I was young, you have always been my father as far as I am concerned. Even when you told me the whole story when I came of age, I've never really thought about it. You are my father in every way. The only thing that has changed now is that you are also my blood father. Stop feeling guilty for no reason."

Tathardis tried to muffle a laugh when she saw the expression on her husband's face as their son told him point blank to stop being guilty. She wasn't quite successful, and both Thranduil and Legolas looked at her questioningly. She _was_ making a very interesting noise.

"What's wrong, my love?"

Tathardis shook her head, even as she gave up the battle and openly giggled.

"You two should hear yourselves. Are you always like this?"

Legolas grinned sheepishly as he realised what she meant.

"Pretty much. In public things are different, but in private this is more or less what we do. Ada has a guilt complex; he seems to think that he will never be a good enough father for some reason. In truth, I could not ask for a better one."

Tathardis looked at Thranduil questioningly.

"Is that true? Did you seriously go back to your old habit of thinking you are not good enough? I thought I trained that out of you!"

Thranduil looked very sheepish.

"It's a part of me that can't be changed I'm afraid, love. My father always did say I had stubbornness enough for five elves. Which was rich, I remember _him_ not budging on more than one occasion."

"Like the first time he met me. That was funny. I'd never before seen an elf turn the colour that you did that day."

Thranduil swiftly looked away, as Tathardis's soft peals of laughter rang out. Legolas watched his parents with wide eyes.

"What happened?"

Tathardis sobered as she lovingly looked at her son.

"We'll tell you some other time. We have plenty of time now after all; there is no rush to do anything. And speaking of Oropher, you should have heard him telling Thranduil off for leaving you in Middle Earth. I swear, your father was practically in tears by the end of it. He wants to meet you at some point. Oropher that is. You are his only grandchild, after all."

"I was _not_ in tears! You made that up!"

Legolas's eyes went wide and slightly panicky at the thought of meeting the legendary Oropher, even as Thranduil continued to protest that his father did not scare him. Legolas did not know how he felt about meeting his grandfather; his reputation among the wood elves Legolas had grown up with rivalled Thranduil's among the dwarves. Speaking of dwarves…

"Ada, I brought Gimli with me. Can he live with us?"

That shut Thranduil up faster than anything ever had before in his life. Tathardis smiled gently at Legolas.

"Who is Gimli?"

Legolas quickly spoke up while Thranduil was still stunned into silence.

"Gimli is my greatest and dearest friend! He has been by my side for many years, and while he is not an elf, I bought him to Valinor with us. He is the only mortal friend I have left; I was not about to leave him behind. Not after everything we've been through together."

Tathardis looked very interested.

"If he is not an elf, then what is he? A hobbit or a human?"

Thranduil groaned. Tathardis frowned at him.

"What's wrong with you?"

Thranduil could not hide his despair.

"Gimli, is a dwarf."

Tathardis swivelled her head between her son, eager eyed and hopeful, and her husband, who was hiding his head in his hands. She was not quite sure how to take that bit of information. While she didn't have any personal experience with dwarves, she knew her husband disliked them intensely. Tathardis sensed that there was a story there, a good one, and resolved to have Legolas tell her about it later. In the meantime…

"I don't see that it will be an issue. There is plenty of room where we are currently living. He can even have his own room. Thranduil?"

The groan that greeted her question could have meant anything. Tathardis took it to mean agreement, and smiled at Legolas.

"That's settled then. When do I get to meet this Gimli?"

Legolas beamed as he threw himself into her arms and hugged her hard.

"Soon, very soon. He is most likely with the Lady Galadriel right now. He took quite a fancy to her while we were in Lothlórien."

Understanding dawned on Tathardis's face.

"Is he the dwarf that Galadriel gave strands of her hair too?"

Legolas nodded.

"Yes. And he still has them. Wait, how do you know about that?"

Tathardis smiled conspiringly.

"Oh, I know a lot, _ion nîn_. Galadriel and I talk often. And Celeborn is you and your father's cousin."

Thranduil muttered something undecipherable, even to elven hearing, at that. Tathardis smacked him lightly on the arm.

"That's quite enough from you. How often have I told you that those things are in the past now? They literally happened in another lifetime, even for elves. Let go of it, dear."

Thranduil sighed, his face still buried in his hands, his long hair obscuring them from view.

"I'm trying to. And I have spoken to Galadriel since coming here. And I was nice!"

"You came upon me talking to her one day by accident, stammered something, and fled."

Thranduil raised his head, and looked at Tathardis with indignation.

"I did not flee!"

Legolas suddenly detached himself from his mother. Turning around, he threw his arms around his father, hugging him hard as he spoke softly in his ear.

"Please Ada, just let it all go. I'm here now, with you and Naneth. It's a new start for all of us. Please forgive Galadriel, Elrond, and all the others? For me? Please Ada?"

Thranduil sighed in defeat. He would literally do anything, or at least attempt to do anything, in the world to make Legolas happy. That wasn't about to change, no matter how he felt about a matter.

"Okay, _ion nîn_. I will forgive the other elves. But, that doesn't mean I'll put up with them when they start annoying me. And Celeborn can be very annoying. But I won't hold the past against them."

"And I want that to go the same way for Gimli. Please Ada. For me."

Tathardis, understanding exactly what Legolas was doing, had to fight very hard not to break down into laughter at his not-so-subtle manipulation. Thranduil sighed, even as he smiled lovingly down at Legolas, who was still hugging him.

"Fine. I know when I'm defeated, and your begging defeats me every time."

"Not every time. There was that one time you banned me from patrols…"

"You were barely of age, and thought it was a good idea to get drunk on stolen wine before having a race through the trees. You ended up with broken bones. I think the punishment was just."

Tathardis laughed out loud at hearing that, even as she joined in the hug. She felt that she could not hug Legolas enough. She had been worried about how he would react to her for a very long time; well aware that she would essentially be a stranger to her own son. She was glad beyond belief that Legolas had accepted her so readily. She now understood why Galadriel and Elrond spoke so highly of him. They stayed like that for some time, until Thranduil started sniffling. When that happened, Legolas looked at him in alarm.

"Ada, what's wrong?"

Thranduil smiled through his tears.

"Nothing's wrong, _ion nîn_. Quite the opposite in fact. Everything is fine. No, everything is better than fine. Everything is perfect. You are here, your mother is here, there is no need to despair over anything ever again. We are together, and we are home. And nothing will tear us apart ever again."

Legolas's face grew serious again as he thought on what he'd just been told, even as both his parents hugged him. It was a lot to take in, but all made perfect sense when explained. Legolas couldn't help but wonder if his life would have been different if Thranduil had known the truth before now. Thinking back on his life, Legolas quickly decided that it would only have made his father love him more, if that were even possible. For all Thranduil's self-doubt, Legolas had always known that his father loved him more than anything else in the world. And his mother loved him as well; he'd always known that. To meet her in person, and have that love confirmed, was enough to make Legolas weep tears of happiness. It wasn't long before they were all weeping and hugging each other yet again. And none of them planned on stopping anytime soon either.

They were all finally were they belonged. Together. For the first time in over three thousand years, they were a family. And this time, nothing and no one could take that away from them.

They had an eternity to spend together. And that eternity started now.

* * *

 _So, there you have it. After all that, who agrees with me that Tathardis is the real hero of the story? The sacrifices she made by convincing the Valar to send Legolas back to Thranduil may very well have saved the whole of Middle Earth from destruction. If she had kept Legolas with her, Thranduil would have faded from grief. The Woodland Realm would have been left leaderless. The evil would have eventually overwhelmed them, and spread from Mirkwood to other parts of the land. There would have been no strong Elvenking to stand up to it, and no Woodland Prince to eventually take part in the Fellowship of the Ring. The elves would have been even weaker than they already were._

 _As Galadriel said in the movies: "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."_

 _Tathardis's self-sacrifice certainly did that, and then some._

* * *

 **Authors notes:**

 **Thank you to all who have reviewed, followed, favourited, and messaged me over the last few months regarding this story. I know for a fact without the support, we would not have gotten past chapter two, let alone have twenty-five chapters altogether. We also would not have the Outtakes, which would be a shame as I enjoy writing them. While this story is now finished, the Outtakes will continue for as long as I have things to write about, and I welcome prompts regarding what you would like to see happen in them. I can't promise to fulfil them all, but I will do whatever the Plot Bunnies decided to write.**

 **Talking of Plot Bunnies…who would be interested in reading a shorter story (or at least I hope it's shorter) about Thranduil and Tathardis first meeting, and Thranduil courting and eventual marrying her? Basically, if I wrote a prequel to this story focussing on those two, would you read it?**

 **Please review, and let me know what you thought of the Grand Finale. Also, let me know the kind of things you would like to see happen in the Outtakes in the coming months and years. Last, but not least, review to let me know if you would like to read a story about a young Thranduil and Tathardis. I welcome ideas of what you would like to see happen in this sort of story.**

 **AustralianRanger012 out. (until next time)**


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